


Fate Deferred

by catie_writes_things



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Duty, Established Relationship, F/M, Family, Flashbacks, Full Series Rewrite, Gen, Spirits, momtara and dadko parenting aang, other canon characters will show up, so many original characters, surprise background pairings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-04-17 13:19:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 26
Words: 188,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14189820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catie_writes_things/pseuds/catie_writes_things
Summary: At the south pole, Katara and Sokka returned to their village with only a few small fish to show for their trouble. “Stupid magic water,” Sokka grumbled, while Katara fumed silently.Aboard his ship, the banished Prince Zuko admitted with a tired sigh that his search of the southern seas had proven unfruitful. “Tell my uncle...we’re going to try the eastern Air Nomad territories again.”Underneath the waves, within his frozen cocoon, the Avatar slept still, and the world continued to move on without him.-----Aang remains in the iceberg ten years longer. He awakens to a very different world.[Now on Book II: Earth]





	1. Prologue

**Fate Deferred: Prologue**

 

_ South Pole - Nine Months Before Sozin’s Comet _

 

Sometimes, Katara wondered what good it did her being a waterbender anyway.

 

She had no one to teach her how to use her gifts properly. The Fire Nation had seen to that, and they had been very thorough. Even the scrolls that contained the wisdom of their tribe - about waterbending, and about other matters - had been stolen or destroyed. Gran Gran and the other elders could tell her stories about the amazing feats the waterbenders of old had been able to do, but they couldn’t show her how to do them. All she could manage on her own was mostly sloshing the water around uselessly.

 

She couldn’t use it to rebuild their village. Creating any kind of sturdy structure out of ice was hopelessly beyond her, so they continued to live in their little circle of tents with nothing but Sokka’s snow embankment for fortification. Her waterbending was no substitute for the construction skills the grown men possessed, which they had taken with them when the war party had left two years ago.

 

She couldn’t use it to do her chores. Even something as simple as collecting snow to melt over the fire, she lacked the control to do reliably. The snow wound up as much on her - or more often, on Sokka - as in the pot, and she’d been admonished by the adults to stick to doing things with her hands. And as that day’s misadventure had proven, her waterbending wasn’t even any good for catching fish.

 

She couldn’t use it to defend herself or her people. That much she knew without even trying. Her waterbending hadn’t saved her mother, and it didn’t look like it was going to save anyone else, either. Not any time soon.

 

Mostly, her waterbending just seemed to start fights between her and her brother.

 

So as much as she took pride in her abilities, however meager and unrefined they were, as much as she appreciated the importance of waterbending to their culture and their heritage, as grateful as she was that the Fire Nation had never succeeded in wiping it out completely, and as honored as she was to be the one to carry it on, there were still times she couldn’t help but wonder.

 

Why had the spirits given her this gift, but not given her any good way to use it?

 

* * *

 

_ Southern Seas - Eight Months Before Sozin’s Comet _

 

On the bridge of his ship, an older vessel which had been recommissioned to serve him in his quest, the banished Prince Zuko admitted to himself with a tired sigh that his search of the southern seas had proven unfruitful. The former Air Nomad territories were sparsely populated - a few trading outposts, but mostly uninhabited islands. The Southern Water Tribe had been reduced to a single village not even worth his time. Carefully kept records of the Fire Nation’s own raids showed that their last waterbender had been killed six years ago. There was simply nothing left here for him to find.

 

He looked up from the navigational charts he had been studying to bark an order at his lieutenant. “Tell my uncle...we’re going to try the eastern Air Nomad territories again.” It was a long shot that they had missed anything on their last pass through that region, but it wasn’t impossible. And it wasn’t like he had much to lose by gambling on long shots, at this point. 

 

The lieutenant gave a curt nod and a salute and left to carry out his orders, looking none too pleased. His men thought he didn’t notice how begrudgingly they obeyed him, but he always did. No one on this ship respected him, not really. From the captain down to the galley cook, they all thought he was just a spoiled child who had done nothing to earn their esteem. The worst part was that he knew they were right - a dishonored prince deserved contempt.

 

Nevertheless, he had been put in charge of this ship and this crew, and he was grateful for what small mercies he had been shown. He gave orders to the helmsman as well, and the ship changed course, heading northeast. Zuko then headed out onto the deck for some air, to clear his head. The landmass of the south pole, just a blue smudge on the horizon, soon slipped out of sight behind them. He threw his head back and looked up into the clear winter sky, as if hoping his quarry would simply fly overhead. The white steam that escaped his lips was from frost, not fire. 

 

Another attempt, another failure. Two years, ten months, and six days. But he wasn’t about to give up. He would never give up. And when he finally did find the Avatar, he’d return home a triumphant hero to claim his rightful place by his father’s side. Then he would have the respect of the men under his command. Then he would have his honor, his crown, and...everything that he longed for.

 

Someday. Soon.

 

* * *

 

_ Fire Nation Capital - Six Months Before Sozin’s Comet _

 

Fire Lord Sozin had not designated which of his sons was to be his heir until close to the end of his prodigiously long reign. A new crown had been forged for the occasion, a golden scallop-shaped flame which the chosen prince wore for less than a year before ascending the throne himself. He was the youngest of Sozin’s children, still unmarried when he became Fire Lord, and so the heir’s crown was retired to storage.

 

By the time he named his son Azulon as his own heir, it had disappeared. Azulon wore a red enameled flame in its place, and the mysterious theft was never explained.

 

Azulon never passed the red flame on to either of his sons, for he followed Sozin’s example to even greater extreme. Though he had been generally understood to favor his elder son Iroh during his lifetime, with his dying wish he named his younger son Ozai as his heir instead, and Ozai was crowned with the golden Flame of Agni at his father’s funeral.

 

Even before he became Fire Lord, Ozai had given smaller red flames to his wife and his daughter, as was his royal privilege. But Zuko had never been given anything. Many had taken this as a sign of Ozai’s ambition even then. It was said that Ozai was waiting until he could give his son the heir’s crown, as he truly wanted.

 

Azula knew better. Father had never given Zuko a crown, because Zuko had never deserved one. And now the whole world would know it, too. 

 

Before the assembled generals and courtiers, she strode confidently towards the dias where Ozai stood. The wall of flames before him did not lower an inch - as ceremonial proof that they were indeed a master firebender, the heir was expected to walk through them. This she did without hesitation, not parting them or casting them away from her body, but actually letting them burn higher and hotter as she came in contact with them. For a moment, it was her own blue fire that separated Agni’s anointed from his subjects.

 

She knelt before her father, and he pinned the heir’s crown into her hair. It was the same crown her namesake had worn, though she doubted Grandfather would have expected her to inherit it. Not that his expectations for her mattered now. She had long ago surpassed them.

 

“Rise,” the Fire Lord commanded her, “Crown Princess Azula, heir designate to the Flame of Agni and the throne of the Fire Nation.”

 

She stood and turned to face the courtiers, who bowed, then came forward one by one to pay her homage as she was due. Commander Zhao met her eyes with a smile before he knelt and pressed his forehead to the floor as he swore his oath of allegiance. But Father didn’t smile, so neither did she, even though she was truly pleased. This was her moment. She had earned this.

 

Only briefly did the thought darken her mind that it was too bad Mother wasn’t there to see. 

 

* * *

 

_ Gaoling - Three Months Before Sozin’s Comet _

 

Through the servant’s passage from her maid’s room to the kitchens, out the kitchen door to the vegetable garden, over the garden wall and onto the path that led to the main road, and then up the road to freedom. It was the same path Toph had taken many times before, and would take many times again.

 

At the Earth Rumble, it didn’t matter that she was blind. It didn’t matter that she was young, or a girl, or a Bei Fong. She could show off her earthbending for anyone to see, could kick butt and take names and no one could stop her. It was heaven.

 

If only it didn’t involve so much sneaking around. Toph was careful, and she was pretty sure it was impossible for anyone to get the drop on her with her earthbending senses, but she dreaded the day she got careless and was proved wrong. If her mother were to find her bed empty, she would not be understanding about her precious daughter sneaking out to fight strange men in the night, and Toph wasn’t sure how she could explain it to her.

 

For all that she hated their rules and their restrictions and their snobbery, Toph still loved her parents, and the thought of disappointing or upsetting them wasn’t one she relished. She did want to be a good daughter, as much as she could, it was just that their expectations were unrealistic. Don’t walk too quickly, Toph, you might trip and fall. Don’t spend too much time outdoors, Toph, you might catch a chill. Don’t speak too loudly, Toph, you might strain your voice. She tried, she really did, but it was maddening, knowing she could do so much more than they would let her.

 

So she went on with her double life - demure and proper heiress by day, earthbending champion by night. Her longing for freedom called her to run away, but her loyalty to her family fixed her in place, and she couldn’t even say which side she’d choose if it came to that. She knew she couldn’t keep this up forever, but she didn’t see any way out. It was like being slowly pulled apart, knowing someday something would have to give, but not being able to stop it. 

 

In the meantime, she stood her ground, enjoyed what freedom she could find, and waited for things to change.

 

* * *

 

_ South Pole - The Day of Sozin’s Comet _

 

At the southern end of the world, the skies turned a pinkish hue that day. The cause for this was unknown, for the people of the Southern Water Tribe had no memory of the comet’s last coming, and could not see the comet itself from their remote village. The elders took it as an ill omen, for even in their long lives, all the omens had been ill.

 

But the seas were calm that day, and the air clear, with no sign of a storm. The children played and the adults went about their work and no one was the wiser about the schemes of foreign kings or the ravaging of distant lands or the destruction of unknown families that took place under the comet’s passage. Not until later.

 

Below the surface, the ocean held on to its secrets, hidden in the dark and frigid depths. Fearsome monsters of the watery abyss, powers and spirits never glimpsed by men, shifting currents and great masses of ice. And within once such frozen mass, as smooth and round as a child’s marble, was the hope of the world, hidden away like a seed in deep soil or an infant in the womb, awaiting the proper time to burst forth into life.

 

Fire and fury fell upon the world above, but down below, the Avatar slept in the ocean’s cold embrace. His hour had not come. Not yet.


	2. The Boy in the Iceberg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katara and her husband go fishing, and make a most unusual discovery.
> 
> In the past, Prince Zuko tries to figure out what Zhao is up to.

**Book I: Water**

 

**Chapter 1: The Boy in the Iceberg**

 

_ South Pole - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

It was a clear, still afternoon in the late autumn. The hunting party, small as it was, had already returned for the season, and the winter stores in the South Pole’s only village were well stocked. Still, on a whim, the two of them had decided to go fishing.

 

Katara carefully paddled the canoe amid the ice floes. She used slow, broad strokes, disturbing the water as little as possible, keeping their pace steady and avoiding collision with the ice. It would have been easier to do with her bending, but she preferred to do these things by hand from time to time. She supposed in some way she was still proving to Sokka that she could, even if Sokka was far away in the Earth Kingdom, and even if she and her brother were both too old for such childish competition.

 

Sitting in the front of the canoe, her husband held a spear at the ready in one hand, eyes trained for any sign of life beneath the water. There was a silvery flash of something, just ahead of them, and he launched the spear in a perfect arc, quickly hauling it back by the line gripped in his other hand to find - nothing. He sighed in frustration.

 

“Hey,” Katara said cheerfully, “if we don’t catch anything, it’s not like we’ll starve.”

 

“No,” he agreed. “I’ll just still be the worst fisherman in the village.”

 

She laid her paddle across her knees as their course brought them into more open waters, farther from the ice. “That’s okay,” she reassured him. “You have other talents we keep you around for.”

 

He gave her a grunt of acknowledgement as he hefted the spear again, eyes once more scanning the water. Idly, Katara reached out with her bending, feeling the vastness of the ocean around them, its soothing push and pull. She remembered the years before she’d had any formal training in waterbending, when she’d been able to feel the water calling to her but hadn’t been able to answer. The steady rhythm of the ocean had been almost maddening, then.

 

With an easy flick of her wrist, Katara drew a shimmering orb of water out of the sea - an orb that just happened to contain a single dark-scaled fish, now trapped.

 

“Zuko,” she called out to her husband, whose gaze was still directed ahead. He gave no response, too fixated on his task. “Zuko, look,” she called again, floating the globe of water nearer to him - just as he drew back his arm to launch the spear. The butt of the spear hit the water bubble, which burst, soaking Zuko’s parka. The fish flopped out of the canoe and back into the freedom of the sea.

 

Zuko turned and glared at her over his shoulder, his right eye almost as narrow as his left. “Stop showing off,” he said irritably.

 

Katara laughed affectionately and bended the water out of his clothes as a peace offering. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I guess I’m not much good at fishing either.”

 

Zuko laid down his spear in defeat. “Why did we even come out here?” he complained, though Katara could see a hint of a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth.

 

“It was your idea, dear,” she reminded him.

 

Zuko turned around fully, sitting backwards in the canoe to face her. He leaned forward so their noses were almost touching. “What if I have a different idea now?” he asked, no longer fighting the earnest grin.

 

“Hmm,” Katara replied, tilting her head to one side as if considering. “I don’t think you’ll catch any fish  _ that _ way.” She tapped one finger playfully against his lips.

 

“We won’t starve,” Zuko said with a shrug, leaning in closer still. Katara giggled coquettishly - and was thrown ungracefully on top of him as the canoe collided with something solid and came to a sudden halt.

 

_ Stupid _ , Katara chastised herself as they regained their balance. She’d been too busy flirting with her husband to notice they had drifted back towards a very large ice floe. Zuko swore softly as water began to pool in the bottom of the canoe. They clambered out onto the ice, then hauled the damaged canoe after them.

 

“Give me the patch kit,” Zuko said.

 

“The patch kit,” Katara repeated, dumbfounded.

 

“Yeah,” Zuko said. “You have it, don’t you?”

 

“I thought you had it.”

 

They stared at each other blankly for a moment as the reality of their situation sank in - stranded on an ice floe with a damaged canoe and no way to repair it, and it was entirely their own fault. Zuko’s mouth set in a tight frown, just a hint of smoke in the breath he forced out through his nose.

 

Katara was as mad at herself as she was at him, and she hadn’t really intended to lash out with her bending as she turned away and gave a frustrated yell, stomping one foot. Nevertheless, the ice trembled as the heel of her boot connected with it, bucking and fracturing at her outburst - or perhaps for some other reason. Something large and round was suddenly breaking through the ice from beneath them. It must have been an iceberg, trapped under the water, though it was unlike any Katara had ever seen before. Zuko caught her hand as they fought for their balance.

 

When the tremors stopped, Katara took one hesitant step towards the massive object, a swirling sphere of ice. It couldn’t be natural, she realized. Someone had made this iceberg with waterbending - but why? She peered closer, and saw within a small, dark shape.

 

“Zuko,” she gasped, squeezing his hand tighter. “There’s a boy in there!”

 

“What?” Zuko asked incredulously. They moved carefully towards the iceberg, wary of the ice beng unstable. Zuko looked closer. “You’re right,” he said in surprise. “How would someone get inside an iceberg?”

 

“The same way we’re going to get him out,” Katara replied. She raised one hand above her head, brought it down with a sweeping motion, and  _ pushed.  _ The icy sphere cracked open down the middle, from top to bottom - and a blast of warm, misty air shot out from the inside of the iceberg, followed by a beam of blue light straight into the air.

 

_ Definitely not natural _ , Katara thought as they shielded their eyes from the nearly blinding brightness.

 

The mist soon cleared and the light faded, revealing the iceberg now fully opened, and in the middle of it a boy dressed in bright orange and yellow. His eyes and the arrows tattooed on his hands and his bald head glowed blue for just a moment, then faded as he went limp and collapsed.

 

Katara and Zuko rushed to the boy’s side. “Do you think...he can’t be Fire Nation, can he?” Katara asked as she knelt beside him. The boy was breathing shallowly but had no apparent injuries, and showed no sign of frostbite. He certainly wasn’t Water Tribe, and the way he was dressed suggested fire more than earth.

 

“No,” Zuko answered quickly, then continued in disbelief, “Those are airbender tattoos.”

 

Katara looked up at him sharply. “Are you sure?”

 

“I’m sure,” he replied, and she knew he, of all people, would know how to recognize an airbender if and when he ever saw one. But before they could discuss the implications of his tattoos any further, the boy took a deep, shuddering breath, and his eyes flickered open. He glanced around in confusion for a moment before meeting Katara’s gaze.

 

“Can you hear me?” she asked gently. “Are you hurt?”

 

“I need…” they boy said in a hoarse whisper. “I need to ask you something…”

 

“Alright,” Katara said, reaching for her water skin. She wondered if he was fully aware of his surroundings. Maybe he had a concussion…

 

Suddenly the boy’s face brightened, and his eyes opened fully, clear and alert. “Can I go penguin sledding?” he asked cheerfully, sitting up.

 

Katara sat back on her heels. “What?” Zuko asked in surprise.

 

“Penguin sledding,” the boy repeated, leaping to his feet with far more energy than someone who until recently had been frozen in solid ice had any right to have. “That’s why I came to the South Pole. It’s lots of fun! Do you know where the penguins are right now? Can you show me?”

 

“Wait a minute,” Zuko cut off the boy’s chatter as Katara got to her feet. “Back up. Who are you?”

 

“Oh, right, I’m Aang,” the boy said with a bright smile and a polite bow. “Nice to meet you!”

 

“Aang,” Katara said, “are you sure you’re alright? You were…” She trailed off, unsure how to tell him. If he really didn’t know…

 

“You were frozen in an iceberg,” Zuko said bluntly. Trust him to be direct.

 

“Huh,” Aang said, looking around him at the shattered remains of the icy sphere that had encased him moments ago. “I guess I was.” He didn’t seem particularly bothered by the idea.

 

“How did you-” Zuko began, but he was interrupted by Aang.

 

“Appa!” the boy cried out suddenly, sounding concerned at last. “Where is he? He must have been frozen with me!”

 

“Who’s Appa?” Katara asked.

 

A deep, lowing sound answered her question, and an enormous, shaggy head emerged from the water behind Aang. The boy gave a cry of delight and ran towards the creature to whom the head belonged - a massive beast with wide-set eyes and long, pointed horns. Only the saddle affixed to its back, which evidenced the creature’s domestication, kept Katara from being afraid.

 

“This is Appa,” Aang explained, patting the creature affectionately. “He’s my flying bison.”

 

“That thing can fly?” Katara asked skeptically. Right now all it was doing was treading water, and it didn’t have wings or any other apparent means of flight. She looked to Zuko, who merely shrugged.

 

“They say all the Air Nomads had flying bisons,” he confirmed. “But obviously I’ve never seen one.”

 

“Really?” Aang asked, turning to look at them in surprise with one hand still on the bison’s snout.

 

“Well,” Katara said carefully, giving Zuko a warning look lest he bluntly reveal anything else. “Nobody’s seen any Air Nomads in a really long time.”

 

Aang stared at her uncomprehendingly for a long moment. “Wow,” he said at last, “I didn’t realize the South Pole was  _ that _ isolated.” He looked at Zuko. “You’re here, after all.”

 

Zuko tensed. “What do you mean by that?” he asked, an uncomfortable edge to his voice. Katara laid a hand on his arm.

 

“Oh, it’s just...I thought you were Fire Nation,” Aang answered, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. “Sorry, I just assumed…”

 

Katara felt Zuko relax slightly. “It’s okay,” she said. “He is Fire Nation. But it’s not just the South Pole. We’ve never seen Air Nomads anywhere.”

 

Aang shook his head. “We’re all over the place,” he insisted. But before Katara could think of a way to gently inform him that actually, Air Nomads were  _ not _ all over the place, but were as far as anyone knew an extinct race, he shrugged and changed the subject.

 

“Anyway,” he said brightly. “What about those penguins?”

 

“I think we should focus on getting back to the village,” Zuko said. Katara nodded in agreement. With their canoe still useless, she’d have to waterbend the ice floe they were on back towards home - and an ice floe was considerably less maneuverable. Getting back to the village would be a difficult task. Unless…

 

“Can the bison really fly?” she asked Zuko.

 

“Of course!” Aang insisted as Zuko shrugged again.

 

“It’s possible,” Zuko conceded. “I always assumed that was just a legend, but the badgermoles can really earthbend, after all.”

 

Aang gave Zuko a strange look. “You’ve been to the Earth Kingdom and seen badgermoles, but you’ve never met an airbender?” he asked incredulously. Zuko and Katara exchanged an awkward glance, but said nothing. “Nevermind,” Aang continued, “Appa really can fly. Climb on and I’ll prove it to you.”

 

He lept effortlessly to sit atop the bison’s head, landing gently in a cross legged position with impossible ease. Impossible unless… Katara met Zuko’s eyes again and knew he was thinking the same thing.  _ Airbending _ .

 

With comparably far less grace, Zuko and Katara climbed up to sit in the saddle on the bison’s back. Aang took up the reins tied to the beast’s horns and said with a grin, “Now watch this. Appa, yip yip!” He flicked the reins, and the bison gave a great bellow, lurched forward, rose out of the water a few feet - and promptly splashed back down.

 

“Wow,” Zuko deadpanned. “That really doesn’t live up to the stories.”

 

Aang gave a nervous laugh. “I’m sure Appa’s just tired, aren’t you buddy?” He patted the bison’s head affectionately again. Appa snorted as if in agreement - but he did begin to swim forward, in the direction of the village. They might not be flying, but they could still get home this way.

 

“How is he tired,” Zuko muttered. “He’s been asleep for over a hundred-” Katara gave him another pointed look, and he didn’t finish that thought. Aang didn’t seem to have heard him anyway.

 

“I never got your names,” the boy called over his shoulder.

 

“I’m Katara,” she replied, leaning against the front of the saddle. “And this is my husband, Zuko.”

 

Aang turned around to face them, clearly trusting Appa to navigate the waters on his own. “So you both live here?” he asked. Katara nodded in confirmation. Aang looked between them curiously, fiddling with the cuff of his sleeve for a moment. “If you don’t mind me asking, Zuko,” he began politely, “how did a firebender end up living at the South Pole?”

 

“Who said I was a firebender?” Zuko deflected.

 

“Well, you’ve obviously fought a firebender,” Aang said innocently. Katara sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose, realizing Zuko was not the only one whose bluntness would make this conversation difficult. Aang at least had the excuse of being a child.

 

“It’s a long story,” Zuko said curtly.

 

“How you got here?” Aang asked. “Or how you got that scar?”

 

“Both, actually!” Katara cut in forcefully. “But yes, Zuko is a firebender. We met in the Earth Kingdom and came back here after we got married. That’s the short version.”

 

“Okay,” Aang said, finally seeming to realize he was prying into a sensitive subject. To Katara’s relief, he asked no further questions on the matter.

 

* * *

 

_ Fire Nation Colonies - Ten Years Earlier _

 

Prince Zuko had been in a sour mood ever since his ship had pulled into the naval base that morning. If he was being honest with himself, he had probably been in a sour mood for most of the past three years, two months, and eleven days. But seeing the Fire Nation flag flying over the small outpost in the colonies, knowing that it wasn’t  _ really _ home but that it was as close as he was allowed to get, only made things worse.

 

Ostensibly, they were only there to reprovision the ship anyway, which meant if he wanted to stay in his quarters all day no one could really say anything about it. The Avatar obviously wasn’t hiding on a Fire Nation military base, so it’s not like he had to go out and personally look for him at this particular port of call on their interminable journey.

 

There was another reason they had come here, but it could wait. As curious as Zuko was about Zhao’s movements - for the recently promoted Admiral was clearly up to something - he did not particularly relish the idea of dropping in on him for a social visit in order to try to glean some information that way. The subtleties of diplomacy were not his strength, and whatever was going on wasn’t likely to be good news anyway. If he didn’t want to face it until tomorrow, he didn’t have to.

 

Uncle had tried to convince him to join the crew for music night earlier that evening, but he had refused, preferring solitude. It would give him time to think about how he’d go about talking to Zhao tomorrow, without letting Zhao know he was trying to discover what his secret plan was. Or so he justified his seclusion to himself, for in reality he didn’t want to think about it at all.

 

He had just sat up on his cot with the intention of trying to meditate in order to clear his mind when there came a knock at his door. “Go away, Uncle,” Zuko shouted irritably without opening the door. “I’m not playing the tsungi horn.”

 

The door opened in spite of his protests. “You have a visitor, Prince Zuko,” came his uncle’s voice, a subtle edge to his usual calm tone. Into the room stepped Admiral Zhao himself.

 

“It’s good to see you again,” Zhao said smoothly.

 

“Likewise,” Zuko said through gritted teeth. Probably it was not very convincing. Behind the Admiral’s back, Uncle gave him a warning look. “I was planning to call on you tomorrow,” Zuko hastily added, hoping it sounded at least marginally friendlier.

 

“Well then, I’ve just spared you the trouble,” Zhao said, glancing around Zuko’s spartan quarters. He half turned to inspect the dual swords hung on one wall. “I know you’re...very busy,” he continued with more than a hint of condescension. “Even with the weight recently lifted off your shoulders.”

 

Zuko got to his feet. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked tensely.

 

“Oh,” Zhao replied almost disinterestedly, lifting one sword off the wall and testing its weight. “Hadn’t you heard? Your sister was recognized as heir to the throne on her birthday.”

 

“What?” Zuko asked in disbelief. “No one told me…”

 

Zhao shrugged, returning the sword to its mounting on the wall. “An official announcement was sent to all naval officers. You didn’t get one?”

 

“No,” Zuko bit out. He had written a brief, formal letter to Azula several weeks ago, wishing her a happy fifteenth birthday. He’d even included a gift of a jade hair comb, because Uncle had said it was the polite thing to do. He had sent a letter to his father at the same time, but he’d received no response from either of them. He never did. He turned angrily to his uncle. “Did you know about this?”

 

“I did not,” Iroh said, shaking his head sadly. “It seems the Fire Lord has neglected to keep me in the loop as well.”

 

“An oversight, I’m sure,” said Zhao in a tone that implied the opposite. “But I didn’t come here just to give you the news. I have an offer for you.”

 

Zuko swallowed his growing anger, forcing himself to focus on the real reason he’d wanted to come here, to talk to Zhao. Perhaps his offer would give some hint at what he was planning. “I’m listening,” Zuko said.

 

“I’ve been gathering forces for a campaign,” Zhao began, confirming what Zuko had already surmised. “I know your priority is searching for the Avatar, but given the...ah....lack of urgency of that quest, I thought perhaps you might suspend it temporarily and join me.”

 

“I don’t know,” Zuko replied, willfully ignoring the latest insult. “As you said, I’m very busy.”

 

“Of course,” Zhao said, nodding understandingly. “But you may find it hard to attend to your...duties otherwise. I will be requisitioning your ship and your crew, whether you come with them or not.”

 

“You can’t do that,” Zuko growled.

 

“As a matter of fact,” Iroh cut in, “he can.” Turning to Zhao, he continued pointedly, “I’m sure my nephew would be interested to hear more of what this campaign would involve.”

 

“I’m sure he would,” Zhao agreed. “And he will, if he decides to join us. But rest assured, even though he won’t be able to participate in any officially recognized capacity, it will be a tremendous opportunity for Zuko to defend the Fire Nation’s honor.”

 

“There is no greater cause worth fighting for,” Iroh replied with a smile and a bow of his head, while Zuko fumed silently, not trusting himself to speak.

 

“Indeed,” said Zhao. Returning his attention to Zuko, he added, “I’ll give you a day to think it over. Let me know your decision by tomorrow night.” He strode towards the door, half turning back just as he reached it. “Oh, and I think you need to keep up with your swordsmanship more,” he added casually. “Your blades are dull.” With that final jibe, he took his leave at last.

 

When the door closed behind him, Zuko threw back his head and let out a frustrated yell, flames licking the metal ceiling. 

 

“Who does Zhao think he is?” Zuko demanded. “He can’t just come in here and take my crew, my ship, and expect me to serve under him like some no-name new recruit!”

 

“Prince Zuko,” Iroh said, “is Zhao really the person you are angry with right now?”

 

“Who else should I be angry with?” Zuko asked tersely, looking away from his uncle.

 

There was a moment of tense silence, the obvious answer hanging unspoken in the air. Finally Iroh sighed. “He has treated you very unfairly,” he said in a low voice.

 

Zuko’s hands balled into fists. “I should have seen it coming,” he said bitterly. “I’ve failed the task he gave me, failed to restore my honor. What else would he do?”

 

“Nephew,” his uncle began gently, “if you have been unsuccessful in your search for the Avatar, it is through no fault of your own. For over three years you have done all that was humanly possible to find him. Your father could not reasonably expect more of you.”

 

“It still wasn’t enough,” Zuko insisted.

 

“Indeed,” his uncle replied. “Have you asked yourself why?”

 

Zuko stubbornly ignored the painful, constricting feeling in his chest. He said nothing, and continued to avoid Iroh’s gaze. Eventually, he heard Iroh give another sigh, and head for the door.

 

“When you are ready to talk about it, you know where to find me,” his uncle said, and then left.

 

Zuko remained still for a moment, staring at the wall. Then, with a jerking movement, he went to the trunk at the foot of his cot that contained his belongings. Throwing it open with more force than necessary, he rummaged around until he found a whetstone. Marching to the opposite wall, he took down both of the swords, then sat on the cot and set himself to sharpening the dual blades.

 

* * *

 

_ South Pole - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

Appa turned out to be a much faster swimmer than Katara would have guessed, and they reached the shores by the village soon. The rest of the short trip had mostly been filled by Aang’s idle chatter about the various types of animals he had found - and ridden - in his travels all over the world.

 

His stories of the Earth Kingdom in particular painted a picture of vast forests and lush jungles that Katara had never known, with no mention of the evils that now haunted that broken and conquered land. And though he hadn’t claimed to have seen one personally, his reference to other Air Nomads actually meeting dragons had given both Zuko and Katara pause - though neither had said anything to contradict him.

 

Appa climbed ashore and lurched into a sitting position. “I know, buddy, you’re tired,” Aang said as he leapt down from the bison’s head, landing lightly on his feet. Zuko and Katara climbed down after him. “Well, now what?” Aang asked, looking at them expectantly.

 

“We need to...talk to some people,” Zuko said lamely. The village council certainly would have much to discuss about their visitor.

 

“I can show you around the village first,” Katara offered. Aang brightened at that suggestion.

 

The three of them headed first for the modest ice house where Zuko and Katara lived. It was towards the center of the village, so several people saw them. Children stopped and stared openly, while adults eyed the strangely dressed outsider with more subtle suspicion - but Aang seemed oblivious, greeting everyone with a smile and a friendly wave.

 

When they ducked through the door of their house at last, Katara let out a sigh of relief. “Gran Gran?” she called out, “We’re back!”

 

Her grandmother came into the main room of the house, holding a small boy with very dark hair by the hand. Katara smiled as her son immediately dropped Gran Gran’s hand and ran to her with a happy shout of “Mommy!” She scooped him into a hug and he laughed, his golden eyes sparkling in the dim light filtered through the blue ice-windows.

 

Zuko came to her side and planted a kiss on top of the boy’s head. “Hello, Arvik,” he said. “Were you good for Gran Gran?”

 

“Yes, Daddy! I was!” Arvik replied earnestly. Katara looked to Gran Gran, who nodded in confirmation before her eyes drifted curiously to the young stranger behind her granddaughter.

 

Turning back to Aang, Katara introduced her son to the older boy. “Arvik, this is Aang. Say hello.” Arvik gave a little wave, suddenly shy. Fortunately, Aang was enthusiastic enough for the both of them.

 

“Hi, Arvik!” he said. “Nice to meet you! How old are you?”

 

Arvik looked at his fingers and carefully counted out three of them. “This many,” he said, holding up his hand. “Almost.”

 

“His birthday is in two months,” Zuko clarified, ruffling the boy’s hair.

 

“Wow,” Aang replied solemnly. “I’m this many.” He held up both hands with all ten fingers extended. “Plus two,” he added.

 

“That’s a lot,” said Arvik, impressed.

 

“And this is my grandmother,” Katara continued her introductions. Aang placed his two fists together in front of him and bowed respectfully to the elder woman. Gran Gran inclined her head by way of returning the greeting, approving of the strange boy’s manners, at least.

 

“Shall we show Aang around so he can meet everyone?” Katara asked her son. Arvik smiled up at her and gave a small nod. “Zuko,” she said, “while we do that, why don’t you and Gran Gran gather those people we need to talk to?” Zuko gave her a nod of his own, while Gran Gran continued to silently study Aang until they had left the house.

 

Not far away, in an open area between two houses, they found a group of children playing. The game came to a halt as they noticed Aang.

 

“Batok,” Katara called to one of the older boys close to Aang’s age. “This is Aang. Aang, this is Batok. He’s my cousin.”

 

“Hi, Aang,” Batok said cautiously, looking to Katara for further clarification as to who this newcomer was. When none was forthcoming, he shrugged. “Hey, Arvik!” he greeted the younger boy at her side, sweeping him up onto his shoulders. Arvik laughed delightedly.

 

“Nice to meet you, Batok,” Aang replied to Batok’s much less formal greeting.

 

“Why are you dressed like that?” one of the younger children who had crowded around them asked. Katara gave the girl, Litula, a sharp look, but Aang didn’t seem offended by the question.

 

“This is how all airbenders dress,” he answered, holding out his arms.

 

“Are you an airbender?” another boy, Vanook, asked in an awed tone.

 

“Yep!” Aang answered proudly, confirming what Katara had by now long suspected to be true. The other children clamored for a demonstration, and Aang was happy to oblige them. 

 

He first removed two marbles from his pocket and made them whirl around on a tiny air current between his two hands, which the children loved, but which Katara privately thought was more of a parlor trick than an actual bending form. But even she was impressed by his subsequent demonstration of what he called an “air scooter” - a spinning ball of air that he rode around the clearing at high speed. Soon he was giving the younger children rides, while the older ones looked on with barely concealed envy.

 

“Aang,” she called out to him after a while, “will you be alright with Batok and the others? I should go find Zuko.”

 

“Sure!” Aang replied. In truth he was barely paying any attention to her, too busy showing off for the other kids now. Shaking her head, she gave Arvik a quick kiss goodbye, told Batok to keep an eye on both him and Aang, and left the children to their games.

 

In spite of what she’d said to Aang, she knew exactly where Zuko would be - in the lodge at the heart of the village, where the councils met. Sure enough, when she entered the lodge, she found him just finishing giving his account of how they had found Aang to the assembled council members. As he was not on the council himself, Zuko was seated on a cushion in the center of the room, while the elders sat in a semicircle of chairs before him. 

 

Gran Gran was there, as chief matriarch, and Amaruk, as the leader of the delegation that had come to the South Pole from the Northern Water Tribe several years ago. The two of them sat in the middle of the curved row of chairs. Kida, the senior healer, sat to the right of Amaruk, and the shaman Inuk, a wizened old man, sat to the left of Gran Gran. To the right of Kida sat Ikino, the youngest member of the council. He was the most senior of the northern warriors, after Amaruk himself.

 

There was an empty chair next to Inuk. As daughter of the chief, Katara had the right to take the final seat, even though she was not formally a member of the council. Today, she chose to sit next to Zuko instead.

 

“If what your husband tells us is true, Katara,” Amaruk said when she had settled herself on another cushion, “then you have made a most troubling discovery.”

 

Katara met Amaruk’s gaze. He had green eyes, very unusual in the Water Tribes. A sign of Earth Kingdom ancestry, said some, or the sign of a snake, according to others. “You know Zuko only ever speaks the truth,” she replied archly. “And I fail to see anything troubling about a twelve-year-old airbender.”

 

“Indeed,” Kida agreed with her, “It is an astonishing discovery, but the boy can’t possibly be a threat to us.”

 

Zuko’s fists tightened where they rested on his knees, but he said nothing. “Not the boy directly,” Amaruk clarified, “but those who would seek him.”

 

“You mean the Fire Nation,” said Inuk. “If they learn that their destruction of the airbenders was incomplete, they may come here to finish the job.”

 

“Does that seem like a possibility to you, Zuko?” Gran Gran asked softly. Katara could not remember ever hearing her grandmother raise her voice in a council meeting.

 

“I think it’s likely,” Zuko said with a frown. “The light when the iceberg broke open must have been visible for miles. If any of the Fire Nation ships patrolling the southern waters saw it, they’ll probably come investigate what it was.”

 

“And what will they find?” Ikino asked with a dismissive wave of his hand. “Icebergs by the dozen, and a village of mostly women and children, as beneath their attention today as it was yesterday. What reason would they have to suspect an airbender among us?”

 

“I’m afraid the light may be reason enough,” Gran Gran said. “Most of the young may have forgotten, but those of us who are old enough still remember the stories. We know what it means.” She paused for a moment. “But you know this too, don’t you, Zuko?”

 

Katara looked to her husband and saw him swallow nervously. “Yes,” he admitted. “The light, the way his tattoos glowed, the power it would have taken to survive inside the ice as long as he must have - these are all signs, things I learned to look for.” He looked to Katara as he continued, “I don’t think Aang is just an airbender. I think he’s the Avatar.”

 

Katara felt her heart leap in her chest. Could it really be? Could the Avatar really return after so long? But she could see in Zuko’s eyes that he was deathly certain, and that he was afraid.

 

“I agree,” said Amaruk, “which is all the more reason why his presence here puts us in grave danger.”

 

“Then we must send him away,” Inuk declared. “To the north, perhaps?”

 

“And bring the wrath of the Fire Nation down upon your sister tribe again?” Ikino asked. Katara couldn’t help but bristle at the way he said  _ your _ sister tribe. Even having lived in the South Pole for years, married a southern woman, and had children here, Ikino still did not consider himself a southerner. 

 

“They would be better equipped to fend off an attack than we are here,” Kida argued.

 

“But the long journey would leave him exposed,” Gran Gran pointed out.

 

“In my opinion,” said Amaruk, folding his hands, “the best place to send the Avatar would be to join the resistance in the Earth Kingdom - a much shorter journey, and unlikely to direct Fire Nation attention anywhere it is not already.” The other elders considered this suggestion for a moment. Katara felt her face flush with anger.

 

“We could always just hand him over to the Fire Nation,” she snapped. “That would be the easiest thing to do, and I’m sure we’d be very  _ safe _ then.”

 

“Katara, please,” Kida said. “Be reasonable. If he is the Avatar-”

 

“Are we sure that he is?” Katara interrupted. She turned to Zuko again. “Are you absolutely sure?” she asked, though she already knew the answer.

 

“I am,” Zuko said sadly, “But why don’t we ask him?”

 

“Very well,” said Gran Gran. “Before we make any decision, let us settle the question. Zuko, go fetch the boy.”

 

Zuko stood, bowed to the elders, and left the lodge. In silence, they waited. Katara tried to gauge what each of the members of the council was thinking. Amaruk was clearly convinced that Aang was trouble, Avatar or not, and would probably want to send him away regardless. Ikino was drumming his fingers impatiently against the arm of his chair. He would likely follow Amaruk’s lead - he usually did.

 

Kida merely looked thoughtful. Katara knew her to be a pragmatic woman. If Aang were merely an Air Nomad child who had somehow survived, she would likely be in favor of letting him stay, hiding him among the children of the tribe if anyone came looking. But if he were the Avatar, she might be swayed to Amaruk’s point of view.

 

Inuk was old enough to remember when the Southern Water Tribe had been a city in her own right, with dozens of her own waterbenders. He had lived through decades of Fire Nation raids, and seen their people decimated. He had succeeded his father as shaman when he was barely out of his youth, following his father’s death in one such raid. The icy hardness in Inuk’s face told Katara that was likely what he was thinking of now.

 

Gran Gran, for her part, remained as serene and impassive as ever.

 

Soon enough, Zuko returned with Aang in tow. They both bowed, and sat, Aang settling himself in between Zuko and Katara.

 

“Aang,” Gran Gran began, “we have heard much about you, but many questions still remain. Tell us - how did you come to be trapped inside that iceberg?”

 

Aang shifted slightly. “Well,” he said, “I was on my way here, to the South Pole, because I wanted to go penguin sledding. I remember...there was a storm.” He paused for a moment, frowning, as if dredging up unpleasant memories. “Appa and I must have gotten pulled under the water and frozen.”

 

“And how long ago was this?” Amaruk asked.

 

Aang shrugged. “I don’t know,” he said. “A few days ago, maybe?”

 

The elders exchanged confused glances. “That seems unlikely,” Kida said carefully.

 

“Well, like I said,” Aang replied, growing more nervous. “I really don’t know. How long ago do you think it was?”

 

“Given that it has been one hundred and ten years since anyone has seen or heard from an airbender,” said Inuk, “we believe it must have been at least that long.”

 

Aang’s jaw dropped. He looked to Zuko, then to Katara, as if expecting them to contradict him - but neither of them could. “That doesn’t make any sense!” he insisted. “I’m not a hundred and twenty-two years old!”

 

“And yet, that is how much time has passed,” Gran Gran said gently. “And here you are.”

 

“But why has no one heard from the airbenders?” Aang asked in confusion. “Where are they?”

 

There was a moment of pained silence before Katara decided to be the one to tell him. “Aang,” she said, taking his hand, “I’m so sorry, but they’re gone. They were all killed at the beginning of the war.”

 

“The war?” Aang asked softly, looking up at her with wide, scared eyes. “What war?”

 

“The war with the Fire Nation,” Zuko said bitterly.

 

“No,” Aang said, shaking his head. “That can’t be right. The Fire Nation couldn’t have...there must be  _ some _ airbenders, somewhere. Maybe they’ve just gone into hiding, and nobody’s found them.”

 

“Not as far as we know,” Gran Gran said diplomatically. “But another question remains.” She leaned forward in her chair, and Aang bit his lip and fidgeted under the intensity of her scrutiny. “The last known Avatar was Roku of the Fire Nation. Fire Lord Sozin ordered the Air Nomads destroyed because they were next in the cycle, and he knew the Avatar would oppose his designs to conquer and subjugate the world. We must know, Aang. Are you the Avatar?”

 

Aang looked down, then shut his eyes tightly. “Yes,” he said in a very small voice. “But I never wanted to be.”

 

Katara drew the boy into a hug. Aang said nothing more, but buried his face in her shoulder. Over his head, she looked towards Zuko and met his eye. Their worst fears had been confirmed.

 

“Thank you, Aang,” Gran Gran was saying. “We have much to discuss. Zuko and Katara will bring you home now.” She met Katara’s eye as she began to protest. “That is all,” she said definitively. “You may return in the morning to hear our decision.”

 

Reluctantly, Katara helped Aang to his feet. The three of them bowed, though Katara could not resist a glare in Amaruk’s direction. Then, with a last pleading look at Gran Gran, she led Zuko and Aang out of the lodge. In silence, they escorted the somber little airbender back to their house, leaving the council to deliberate his fate.

 

* * *

 

_ Fire Nation Colonies - Ten Years Earlier _

 

When Zuko and Iroh approached the meeting tent of the naval base the following evening, they were met by Admiral Zhao himself.

 

“Admiral,” Zuko greeted him stiffly, “we have decided to join your campaign.”

 

Zhao smiled. “I’m glad to hear that.” He looked over Zuko’s shoulder, at Iroh. “I presume you were able to prevail upon your nephew to make the sensible choice?”

 

“Not me, Zhao,” Iroh replied. “Prince Zuko makes his own decisions. I follow where he leads.”

 

“Then I am glad he has led you rightly, this time,” Zhao said. He turned to enter the tent. “Shall we?”

 

Inside, Zuko and Iroh took their seats among the assembled officers. Some were men Zuko recognized. Captain Leung and Captain Joshi he had met on previous occasions during his exile. Commander Toda had been present at his first, disastrous war council and the subsequent Agni Kai. Most of the rest he knew by reputation, once they introduced themselves. General Masashige was fresh from his triumph in Omashu, now called New Ozai - Zuko had been informed of  _ that _ development. 

 

“The campaign we are here to discuss,” Zhao began his official briefing, “is a siege of one of the last great cities that remains outside of Fire Nation control. Since the taking of New Ozai,” here he nodded respectfully at Masashige, who gave a humble bow at the acknowledgement, “the Northern Water Tribe is now second only to Ba Sing Se itself.”

 

“The Northern Water Tribe?” Toda asked skeptically. “Are they really worth our attention?”

 

“It is a larger city than Omashu,” Joshi argued. “And the fact that they have never been invaded makes them a symbolic asset, at least, to those who would resist Fire Nation rule.”

 

“Indeed,” Zhao went on. “They are no petty village to be easily conquered. It will take a large naval force, and several battalions of foot soldiers, to stage a successful assault.”

 

“Which is why you have spent the last several months since your promotion amassing just such a force,” Zuko put in. The other officers turned to him in surprise. Next to him, he heard Iroh sigh. Perhaps that had been too direct.

 

If Zhao was surprised how much Zuko knew of his recent activities, he didn’t show it. “It’s good to see that you are so well informed, in some areas,” the admiral said calmly. “I have done just that.” He returned his attention to the group as a whole, and proceeded to detail his plan for the invasion. Zuko listened, and watched Zhao carefully. He still couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that the admiral was hiding something, but he raised no objections to his plan.

 

When the meeting finally came to an end, Zuko and Iroh made polite farewells and headed back to their ship. The invasion fleet was to set sail the next morning, so they had their excuse for not lingering. They walked most of the way in silence. Zuko reviewed the meeting in his mind, trying to put a finger on what exactly had left him feeling unsettled, but he could not identify it.

 

“Perhaps a cup of jasmine tea before bed?” Iroh suggested when they reached the boarding ramp of the ship. Zuko begrudgingly agreed, to his uncle’s delight, and followed him to his quarters. He continued to brood as Iroh set about heating the kettle and steeping the tea.

 

“There’s something Zhao’s not telling us,” he said at last when the tea was ready to pour. Iroh nodded as he filled two cups. “But I don’t know what it could be,” Zuko admitted in frustration.

 

“If I know Zhao,” Iroh said, picking up his own cup, “it’s some scheme for his own glory.” He took a careful sip of the hot tea and considered for a moment. “Likely there is some particularly devastating blow he plans to deliver the Water Tribe personally, and he doesn’t want any of his officers getting ideas about stealing his thunder.”

 

“So it was never about the honor of the Fire Nation,” Zuko said, looking down at his own untouched cup. “This whole campaign is about making Zhao look good.”

 

“It always is, with that one,” Iroh concurred. “But, we have already agreed to help him.”

 

Zuko didn’t know what to say, so he simply drank his tea instead. When he bid his uncle goodnight and retired to his own quarters, he fell into an easy, dreamless sleep. Perhaps Uncle was right, and the jasmine tea was calming.

 

His peaceful sleep was abruptly shattered a few hours later, when he awoke to an assassin’s blade at his throat.

 

* * *

 

_ South Pole - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

That evening, after Aang and Arvik were asleep, Zuko came and sat next to Katara by the fire while she sewed. Arvik was going through a growth spurt and would need new shirts and pants soon, especially with winter coming. Sewing, she had found, was a good task for distraction, if she needed to not think about something for a while. Right now, she wanted more than anything not to think about that afternoon’s council meeting, or what she knew would be the result when they announced their decision in the morning.

 

Zuko said nothing for a while, but the fire rose and fell in time with his breathing. He did that when he had something weighing on his mind. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched him - her Fire Nation husband dressed in Water Tribe blues, undoubtedly wrestling with the question of whether they should send the last airbender to what was left of the Earth Kingdom. He had a way of taking on the weight of the whole world without even realizing he was doing it.

 

“They’re right,” Zuko finally said in a soft voice, bringing up the very subject she had been trying unsuccessfully to avoid. Katara put down her sewing with a sigh as Zuko stared into the flames. “The Avatar can’t stay here,” he said reluctantly.

 

“Then he can’t stay anywhere,” Katara countered. “He’ll make anywhere he is a target.”

 

“Maybe,” Zuko agreed. “But the Underground is already a target anyway, so not much harm done by sending him there.”

 

“Not much harm,” Katara repeated, shaking her head. “I can’t believe we’re seriously talking about sending a twelve-year-old into a war zone.”

 

Zuko shrugged one shoulder. “He’s not much younger than I was.”

 

“And you want to follow your father’s example all of a sudden?” she shot back.

 

Zuko’s jaw tightened, and the low fire before them sparked just an inch or so higher. He was silent for a moment. “It’s not the same,” he finally said, turning to look at her. “He’s the Avatar, Katara,” he said sadly. “What choice do we have?”

 

“Couldn’t we try to protect him?” she asked desperately. “Keep him safe, at least until he’s older? He’s only a child!”

 

“There are other children in the village,” Zuko gently reminded her. “If the Fire Nation raids start again, you know what will happen.” And she did, of course. Not as well as Inuk, perhaps, but well enough. She could never forget. “Don’t we have to protect them from that?” Zuko went on. “Don’t we have to protect our son from that?”

 

Katara shook her head. “Does protecting our son have to mean sacrificing another child?”

 

“We won’t be,” Zuko insisted. “We won’t send him alone. He’ll have protection, as much as we can afford, and when he gets to the Underground, they’ll do their best to keep him safe. And we’ll have done our best for everyone.”

 

He sounded so determined. She knew his mind was made up, and she could hardly fault his reasoning. Truthfully, all the same arguments had already occurred to her, even that afternoon during the council meeting. Still, her heart protested, this couldn’t be the only way.

 

“You know what they’ll decide, don’t you?” Katara asked. “Who the council will want to send with him?”

 

Zuko blinked at her in confusion. “One of the warriors, surely.”

 

“Oh no,” Katara said, getting to her feet and pacing the room. “There are too few warriors here as it is, and half of them are untested teenagers anyway. They can’t spare any of them. And of course the healers couldn’t do it.” She stood still, folding her arms over her chest. “They’ll vote to send you.”

 

Zuko’s good eye widened. “They’d want me...to bring the Avatar…?” 

 

“Do you want to go back, Zuko?” Katara asked, adopting some of his usual directness for a change. “Is that why you’re agreeing with them? To go back to the war? To get away from here?”

 

“What?” Zuko replied in a stunned voice. “Katara, no,” he said, rising to his feet as well and coming to stand a hand’s breadth in front of her. “Leaving the south pole is the last thing I want to do.”

 

“But you hate it here,” she accused. “You hate the cold, you hate the winter darkness. You’re restless. There’s a war being fought and you think you should be in it.”

 

“That’s not-” Zuko began, then sighed and ran a hand through his long hair. “Look, you’re not wrong, about that. But being here…” He looked away, as if ashamed. “My family is here,” he said simply. “This is where I want to be, even if no one else wants me here.”

 

“Then  _ stay _ ,” she urged, taking both his hands.

 

Zuko shook his head. “If you’re right,” he said, “if they choose me...it has to be done. Someone has to go.” He looked back at her and met her eye with pained resolve. “I don’t want to go. But if I’m chosen, I will.”

 

Katara closed her eyes and leaned into him. He slid his hands from her grasp to wrap his arms around her, and she rested her cheek against his collar bone. “It won’t be for long,” he murmured. She could feel the rumble of his voice in his chest. “Once I get him there, he won’t need me anymore. I’ll come back.”

 

“You might not make it back,” Katara said softly. She barely dared to voice the words, the deepest fear of her heart, but he had to know. “Anything could happen to you out there.”

 

Zuko pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “That was always true,” he said, “for both of us, when we were with the Underground.” He was right; death or capture had been risks they had lived with for years.

 

“But there was a reason we left,” Katara reminded him. “A good reason.” Leaning back, she looked up at him again. “You’re worried about what will happen to our son if the village is attacked. I’m worried about what will happen if he loses his father.”

 

“I guess you’d have to marry Pamuk,” Zuko attempted to joke. “He’s the last eligible bachelor in the village.”

 

Katara laughed in spite of herself. “That stuck-up northerner?” she protested. “Never.”

 

“Sometimes you can be so provincial, Katara,” Zuko chided her, though he smiled as he did. “So prejudiced.”

 

“Hey,” Katara said, squeezing his hands, “I married you, didn’t I?”

 

Zuko laughed a little sadly. “And the stuck-up northerners still haven’t forgiven you for it.”

 

Katara shrugged. “That’s their problem.” After a moment, she added bitterly: “If Amaruk were half the man my father is, he would bring Aang to the resistance himself.”

 

“But instead he’ll use his rank as his excuse to stay here,” Zuko concluded.

 

Katara leaned into his embrace once more. “It’s not fair,” she protested weakly. “It’s not fair that Aang has to leave, or that they’ll send you just because…” She trailed off, hesitating to voice what she suspected was the real reason Zuko would be chosen.

 

“Because they don’t like me?” he finished her thought for her. “Look at it this way: at least it means they trust me.”

 

“It’s still not fair,” she insisted, blinking back sudden tears. 

 

Zuko was quiet for a long moment at that. “It’s a war, Katara,” he said at last, holding her tighter. “It was never going to be fair.”

 

She knew he was right, of course. That didn’t make it any easier.

  
  


 


	3. The Threshold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Southern Water Tribe decides what to do with the Avatar in their midst.
> 
> In the past, Zhao attacks the Northern Water Tribe.

**Book I: Water**

 

**Chapter 2: The Threshold**

 

_ South Pole - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

Katara couldn’t sleep that night.

 

The moon was almost full, which never helped, but usually the warmth of her husband curled around her under the heavy furs made her drowsy enough to drift off eventually, even with the moon at its zenith. But tonight the weight of her worries kept her mind restless, and she tossed and turned fitfully long after Zuko was sound asleep. She almost envied him, only she knew he was beginning to feel the exhaustion that always plagued him as the autumn days grew shorter. It would be good for him, in a way, if he went further north for at least part of the winter…

 

She sat up with a frustrated sigh, and got out of bed. Zuko stirred, but didn’t wake. Pulling on the outer robe she wore during the day over her nightclothes, she padded silently out of their bedroom and into the room next door.

 

Aang was asleep on top of the sleeping bag they’d given him, rather than inside it, sprawled in the middle of the room. Katara’s instinct was to drape a blanket over him, but he wasn’t shivering in spite of the chill, and when she gently touched his hand she found it warm. He seemed content, so she left him alone.

 

In the small bed against the wall, Arvik also slept peacefully, his small lips slightly parted, dark lashes brushing against round cheeks. She sat on the floor beside the bed and smoothed his thick hair with one hand, wondering what her son was dreaming about. Playing with Mommy and Daddy? His upcoming birthday? The realization that Zuko would not be there to celebrate with them hit her suddenly, and heavily, and she laid her head down on the bed next to him.

 

Something on top of the small trunk that held Arvik’s clothes caught her eye. It was a whalebone flute. Zuko must have left it there - he often played it for their son. He’d been working on carving a smaller flute from a seal bone, so he could begin teaching Arvik to play himself. Was that just one more thing their son would have taken from him?

 

She placed a kiss on Arvik’s forehead, gave a last mournful glance at Aang, and returned to her own bed, beside her husband. Moonlight filtered in through the window, making Zuko’s scar look purple where it was visible beneath the long hair that hung in his face. He always wore his hair loose, even in the daytime. Top knots were for Fire Nation nobility, and wolf tails for Water Tribe warriors, and he said he was neither. She brushed his hair back as she had done for their son, then traced her fingers along the edge of his scar, idly wishing, as she often had, that she could have somehow been there to heal him on the day he had been burned.

 

The war had taken so much from all of them, and it would only demand more. It really wasn’t fair.

 

She finally fell into a fitful sleep, her dreams filled with vague anxieties and running from unseen dangers. The sky was still dark when she woke again, but she could feel that the moon had set - that meant it was time to start the day. This time of year, they couldn’t wait on the sun. She got up and dressed quickly.

 

Zuko was still sound asleep, and he groaned in protest when she woke him. “I know, I know,” she said sympathetically. “It’s dark and it’s cold and it’s nothing like morning. But it is time to get up.” She leaned over and kissed the tip of his nose gently, then laughed in surprise as he threw one arm out from under the covers to grab her by the waist and pull her back onto the bed with him. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, and she sighed exasperatedly. “Come on, Zuko. Get out of bed.” She gave him another kiss on the side of his head, just over his scarred ear.

 

“You’re not giving me very good incentive to,” he mumbled, his breath hot against her neck.

 

“If you’re awake enough to use words like ‘incentive’, you’re awake enough to get up and get dressed,” Katara reasoned. Placing her hands on his shoulders, she pushed him half an arm’s length away, kissed him again on the lips, and stood up, pulling him with her. Zuko groaned again, but didn’t otherwise resist.

 

As she found her boots and put them on, Zuko pulled off the dark blue undershirt he had slept in, revealing the nearly faded white gash on his left shoulder, the jagged burn mark that coiled around his right forearm, and the pinkish starburst in the middle of his chest. The last one still made her heart skip a beat whenever she saw it. Few people knew just how many scars her husband really had, and what they all meant. Most of them were from before he had met her, and she treasured each of their stories as tokens of his trust, but the one over his heart was the greatest testimony of all.

 

As Zuko finished getting dressed, Katara went out into the main room of the house. Gran Gran had already stoked the fire, and Katara helped her finish preparing breakfast. Zuko joined them with Arvik in his arms, the little boy resting his head tiredly against his father’s shoulder, just as the meal was ready. Aang trailed close behind them.

 

They ate quietly. Aang accepted a bowl of congee from Katara with a word of thanks, and kept his eyes on his food. He had been subdued ever since admitting he was the Avatar at the council meeting the previous day. Katara could hardly imagine how the boy was dealing with the weight of that responsibility in light of how drastically the world had changed from what he must have known, before the war. 

 

Zuko set Arvik on his knee and fed him, in between bites of his own food. Gran Gran seemed to be watching Aang carefully. It was she who spoke at last. “You didn’t come here just to see the penguins,” she said pointedly to Aang.

 

Aang looked up at her in surprise. “Well, I wanted to go sledding with them,” he answered evasively.

 

Gran Gran frowned. “You know what I mean.”

 

“Gran Gran,” Katara said warningly. They didn’t really need to interrogate the boy over breakfast, did they?

 

“I know the look of a runaway,” Gran Gran persisted, ignoring Katara’s warning. “He’s been afraid of being found out ever since he got here, even before we told him about the war.”

 

“He woke up from a century-long coma inside an iceberg,” Zuko argued. Arvik stood up on his lap and reached for his father’s hair with sticky fingers, which Zuko gently pushed away. “Anyone would be unsettled by that.”

 

“Not unsettled,” Gran Gran insisted, looking back at Aang. “Afraid.”

 

Aang held her gaze defiantly for a moment before he caved. “It’s not what you think,” he all but pleaded. “I didn’t run away because I was scared of the Fire Nation or anything. I just…” He set down his bowl, forcefully. “They were going to send me away anyway, and make me do all this Avatar stuff, and I didn’t want to be different or important! I just wanted to do normal kid stuff!”

 

“Well,” Gran Gran said, as evenly as ever, “it doesn’t look like you’ll get what you wanted, does it?”

 

“No,” Aang replied, pouting. “I haven’t even gotten to see the penguins.”

 

“Let him be, Gran Gran,” Katara cut in before her grandmother could scold the boy any more. “He’s just a child.”

 

Gran Gran turned her pointed gaze on her granddaughter. “He’s old enough to learn that running from our responsibilities, however unfair they may seem, seldom brings us the relief we expect.” She turned back to Aang, and when she spoke again her voice was softer, more sympathetic. “Believe me, I know. It is tempting to think that all of our problems are caused by other people, and that we can leave them behind, but some things we are born into, and must face one way or another.”

 

“I get it,” Aang said exasperatedly. “Trying to pretend I’m not the Avatar won’t make it not true.”

 

“No one can run from who they really are,” Zuko said softly, half to himself.

 

Gran Gran nodded in agreement. “Better for us all, Aang, if you learn that lesson now. Better for yourself, too.” With that she stood, and excused herself to rejoin the other council members. Katara cleaned up the breakfast dishes, with Aang’s help, while Zuko washed Arvik’s face and hands.

 

Aang was quiet again, no doubt ruminating over what Gran Gran had told him. Katara couldn’t help feeling her grandmother had been overly harsh. Yes, Aang had responsibilities as the Avatar, but she could hardly blame him for wanting to be an ordinary child, just has she had never blamed her grandmother for running away from the north, even if neither’s escape plan had worked out as well as they had hoped. Katara herself wouldn’t be here if Gran Gran had stayed, and if Aang hadn’t run away, who knew if the Fire Nation wouldn’t have killed him along with all the other airbenders.

 

She had to believe that things would still work out for the best, at any rate.

 

* * *

 

_ North Pole - Ten Years Earlier _

 

The Northern Water Tribe had defended herself admirably, even against Zhao’s fleet of thirty ships. It seemed foolish, in hindsight, to have ever thought they could best an army of waterbenders in a sea battle, fighting on their element. It had taken nearly a full day of fighting for the Fire Nation fleet to break through the first seawall, and the battle had then stalled in the outer ring of the city, with the Fire Nation failing to penetrate the Water Tribe’s second line of defense before they had to halt their attack at sundown.

 

Following the tactical retreat, Zhao returned to the viewing platform above the bridge of his flagship, where he found General Iroh accompanied by only an honor guard of one soldier. Since the unfortunate disappearance of his nephew the night before the fleet had set sail, the old general had been rather morose, and had taken little part in the battle. He showed no emotion now as he watched the Fire Nation forces withdraw.

 

“I did warn you that time was on their side,” Iroh said evenly.

 

“And I did tell you I had a solution to the moon problem,” Zhao shot back. “Let them think the assault is failing. It will make them overconfident. Meanwhile, I will take a small group of soldiers to infiltrate the spirit oasis.”

 

Iroh’s eyebrows shot up. “The spirit oasis?” he asked.

 

“Yes,” said Zhao. “Years ago, I discovered the true location of the moon and ocean spirits in our world - an oasis at the north pole. They have taken on physical forms, which makes them vulnerable. It means they can be killed.”

 

“The spirits are not to be trifled with,” Iroh warned darkly. “Even if you succeed, the result might not be to your liking.”

 

Zhao scoffed. “I do not fear the spirits like you do,” he declared. “And that is how I will make my mark on history, as Zhao the Great. Zhao the Spirit Slayer.”

 

“If you say so,” Iroh replied, unimpressed.

 

Zhao took his leave, presumably to make further plans for his own glorious legacy elsewhere. Iroh went to the side railing of the viewing platform and leaned against it, staring down into the dark waves below. His guard came to stand by his shoulder, a half-step behind him.

 

“This is not good,” Iroh said in a low voice.

 

The guard removed the faceplate of his helmet, revealing the bright red scar over his left eye. “What will happen if he kills the moon and ocean spirits?” Zuko asked softly.

 

“The waterbenders will lose their bending abilities,” Iroh replied. “Zhao will be able to crush them easily.”

 

Zuko frowned, considering. He knew that should be a good thing - the Water Tribes were enemies of the Fire Nation, after all. But the thought of Zhao’s triumph gave him no satisfaction, and the idea of benders, even enemy benders, being suddenly cut off from their element like that…

 

“That seems unfair,” Zuko said.

 

Iroh glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “This is a war, Prince Zuko. Did you think it was going to be fair?”

 

“There are limits, even in war,” Zuko insisted. His left hand tightened around the faceplate he still held, while his right curled into a fist.

 

“Not when men like Zhao fight,” said Iroh. He closed his eyes. “And it would be worse than unfair. It would be an act of desecration.”

 

“Against the spirits of the Water Tribes?” Zuko asked hesitantly.

 

“Against the world,” Iroh clarified. “The spirits affect us all. The moon may give the waterbenders their strength, but we need her as much as they do. Can you imagine what would happen if the tides ceased to come in and go out? The balance of our entire world would be upset.”

 

“That sounds like Avatar stuff,” Zuko observed, “talking about balance.”

 

“Perhaps,” Iroh allowed. “But even the Avatar may have something to teach us.” He opened his eyes and glanced sidelong at Zuko again. “Our enemies often do,” he added carefully.

 

Zuko nodded. “So if Zhao succeeds,” he mused aloud, “it will be bad for the world. Which means it would be bad for the Fire Nation.”

 

“Yes, Prince Zuko,” Iroh said. Zuko could hear the patient smile in his voice.

 

“Then it is my duty as the-” Zuko stopped himself, fought down another surge of pain and anger, then continued, “as a prince of the Fire Nation, to stop him.” He stepped forward, fully by his uncle’s side, and turned to face him properly. He was surprised to see tears in the old man’s eyes.

 

“I thought you’d be happy,” Zuko said nervously. “I’m following your advice, aren’t I?”

 

“I am very happy that you are doing the right thing, Prince Zuko,” Iroh said. “But I am a bit selfish, too. You see, ever since I lost my son-”

 

“You don’t have to say it, Uncle,” Zuko cut him off. “I know.”

 

“I think of you as my own,” Iroh finished in spite of his protests. His eyes flicked downward, towards Zuko’s throat, where the bandage that covered the shallow wound from the assassin’s blade was just visible above the collar of his borrowed uniform. “What you must do now will be so dangerous, and I cannot go with you without raising Zhao’s suspicion.”

 

There was a tightness in Zuko’s chest again, but this time it wasn’t painful. He was caught off guard when his uncle embraced him, but he gladly returned the hug. “You won’t lose me,” Zuko assured him. “I’ll be fine.”

 

* * *

 

_ South Pole - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

When Katara and Zuko left the house later that morning with Aang, they dropped Arvik off with Katara’s Aunt Tira, then went straight to the lodge.

 

“We have decided,” Gran Gran announced, “that we can not protect the Avatar in our village. He must go to the Earth Kingdom, to seek the protection of the resistance forces there.”

 

Aang looked glumly down at his hands, folded neatly in his lap. “I accept your decision,” he said.

 

“You will have an escort, though we can only spare one man,” Amaruk said. For a moment, Katara held out a fool’s hope he would name someone else. “Zuko,” he continued, like she had known he would, “we have chosen you for this task.”

 

“I understand,” Zuko said. “I will not fail you.”

 

“We are sure that you will not,” Gran Gran replied with a nod. Then she looked sternly back at Amaruk. “As for the other matter…” Katara’s stomach fluttered nervously. What else was there to discuss?

 

“The Avatar must master all the elements,” Amaruk stated. Aang lifted his head, suddenly interested in the discussion. “He will need a waterbending teacher,” Amaruk went on. His green eyes fixed on Katara. “I suggest we send one with him.”

 

Katara frowned. “Kohnna is with the resistance in the Earth Kingdom,” she protested. “Do you have so little confidence in your own son?”

 

“Oh, I am sure he would do adequately,” Amaruk conceded, “though we both know he is not our greatest waterbender. But it will take some time for the Avatar to get there. It would be better if he could begin his training without delay.”

 

Out of the corner of her eye, Katara saw Zuko shift uncomfortably. She knew he must be dying to argue, but he was not as free to speak to the council as she was. Katara inclined her head in deference. “There are others who could protect the Avatar, but you have chosen my husband,” she said, trying to ignore the smug glint in Ikino’s eyes. Amaruk was too careful to betray any sign of such sentiment. “That is your right.” Then she raised her head defiantly. “But there is another waterbending master here as well,” she challenged.

 

Amaruk shook his head as if regretful, though Katara doubted he was. “I would be glad to accept the honor of instructing the Avatar, if it were possible for the boy to stay here,” he said. “But my responsibilities are too great for me to accompany him.” He smiled at Katara with fatherly pride. “You are my greatest student, and there is no one I would trust more with this task.” It was the most damning praise she had ever received.

 

“Is it the opinion of the council that I should go?” Katara challenged him.

 

“The council is divided,” Kida replied pointedly. Katara could guess how most of them had come down: Ikino in support of Amaruk, as always, Kida and Gran Gran opposed. Kida had never liked it when Amaruk would push Katara, and her grandmother would know her heart, and would never send her away from her son. Arvik was so young...it was less than a year since he’d been weaned...

 

“But not all voices on the council were heard,” Amaruk said. He turned to Inuk. “You have had the time you asked to consult the spirits. Have they given you guidance?”

 

“They have,” Inuk replied.

 

All eyes looked to the shaman. As the most senior member of the council, his vote carried the most weight. He could overrule Amaruk, even if only one of the others agreed with him. In silence, he considered, his eyes closed. Katara watched him carefully. She wished he would say no, and then she would have her excuse to stay, like Amaruk had his. But part of her felt guilty even at the thought.

 

“Well, Inuk?” Amaruk prompted. “What do you say?”

 

“It is true,” the shaman began, eyes still closed, “that we do not want to deprive young Arvik of both his parents. I do not think that is what his parents want, either.” He rubbed his thumb and forefinger idly for a moment. “But we are not here to consider our wants. We are here to decide what must be done.” He leaned forward in his chair, and Katara shuddered involuntarily as his clouded, half-blind eyes opened and fixed on her.

 

“Katara is like the tides,” Inuk continued. “Constant, yet always moving. I saw it even when she was a child. And who knows better than you, Amaruk, how she can surprise us?” Amaruk nodded in agreement, without losing anything of his satisfied look, as the shaman went on. “The tide must go out, whether she wants to or not. We can not hold her back.”

 

With great difficulty, Inuk rose to his feet. Katara and Zuko did likewise, Aang scrambling to follow their example. With hobbling steps, Inuk came to stand before them. His clouded eyes drifted to Aang.

 

“There has been too much delay already,” the shaman said. “She must go with you now.” Aang looked down at his feet, brows drawn together worriedly. Looking back at Katara, Inuk spoke solemnly, “Do you accept this charge?”

 

Everything in her wanted to refuse. They could not make her do this, could not ask her to leave her son as good as orphaned, it simply was not fair. But she remembered Zuko’s words from the night before:  _ I don’t want to go, but if I’m chosen, I will _ . If the council commanded his obedience, how much more did the spirits have claim to hers? Why even ask the ocean to accept the tides, if the moon would do what it willed anyway?

 

And yet, she had been asked, and must give an answer. “I accept,” she said to Inuk, and to him alone. Let no one say Amaruk had forced her hand.

 

Suddenly, Inuk’s head snapped to the side, and his cloudy gaze fixed on Zuko. “And you-”

 

But whatever wisdom or prophecy he was going to speak was interrupted as Amaruk’s younger son, Kinto, burst into the lodge. “Fire Nation ship!” he cried out. “There’s a Fire Nation ship off the coast!”

 

“What we feared has already begun,” Amaruk said, rising quickly and striding across the room to stand by his son. The other council members trailed in his wake as he put one hand on the young man’s shoulder. “Did you do as I asked?”

 

Kinto nodded, with a quick, sidelong glance at Zuko. “Yes, Father. We have their things here, ready to go.”

 

Zuko took two steps towards Amaruk, pointing one finger accusingly, all deference for the council and its members forgotten. Katara was right behind him. “You knew,” he said. “You knew all along we would both be going.”

 

“You should be thankful that I did,” Amaruk countered, unflustered as ever. “And that I had the foresight to prepare you for your journey.”

 

“You should be thankful that we do not cower behind rank and station,” Katara shot back, “or you would not have us as your pawns.”

 

“There is no time for this,” Kida cut in, stepping between Katara and Amaruk. “The Fire Nation is coming. You must leave immediately, and be seen leaving. That is the only thing that may draw them away from the village.”

 

“She is right,” Gran Gran agreed reluctantly. “What you must do, do quickly.”

 

“Gran Gran,” Katara said, “I’m sorry.”

 

“Enough, Katara,” her grandmother replied firmly, putting both hands on Aang’s shoulders and pushing him gently towards Katara and Zuko. “Go.”

 

Aang looked at her, then at Zuko, with uncertain eyes. “The tide must go out,” Inuk repeated ominously.

 

Katara met Zuko’s gaze. “Arvik,” he said softly.

 

Her eyes stung with tears. “There’s no time,” she replied. Zuko shook his head, and charged out of the lodge. Katara grabbed Aang’s hand and followed him. They found the packs Kinto had prepared - everything they would need for their journey was there. Hastily they shouldered them.

 

Then the three of them ran.

 

* * *

 

_ North Pole - Ten Years Earlier _

 

Zuko carefully followed his uncle’s directions, only briefly wondering how Iroh had known about the hidden network of ice tunnels that led into the city, as he made his way at last to the spirit oasis. Zhao and his small party of four soldiers were already there, fighting with a group of four waterbenders - apparently, the Northern Water Tribe had left the oasis relatively unguarded. There was a girl with white hair there as well, but she hung back from the fight, clearly not a warrior.

 

Before Zuko could intervene, Zhao ducked under a water whip, dashed to the pond in the center of the oasis, and using a canvas bag, snatched one of the koi fish from the water. The pale moonlight turned blood red, and the waterbenders were rendered helpless. Zhao’s soldiers subdued them easily.

 

“This shall be my legacy!” the admiral proclaimed, holding the wriggling bag with the koi aloft. “I shall be known as Zhao the Invincible, before whom even the spirits tremble!”

 

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that,” Zuko said, stepping out of the shadows.

 

Zhao looked to him in surprise. It seemed Zuko had caught him off guard at last, but he recovered himself quickly. “So the disgraced prince lives,” Zhao sneered, looking even more sinister than usual in the unnatural red light. “Have you and your uncle both turned traitor?”

 

“I am no traitor,” Zuko insisted. “But what you are doing will hurt the Fire Nation as surely as it will hurt the Water Tribes.”

 

“Your uncle has trained his iguana parrot well, I see,” Zhao replied, unimpressed.

 

“I am nobody’s iguana parrot!” Zuko shouted.“You tried to have me killed, and now you’re going to do something that will hurt your own nation, just so you can have your day of glory! You’re the real traitor, Zhao!” He sank into a bending stance. “And it’s my duty to stop you.”

 

“Brave words,” Zhao acknowledged, “but as always, not good enough.” The hand holding the bag burst into flame. Zuko launched a fireball of his own at the admiral, but it was too late. The bag turned to ash, and the charred body of the koi fish fell lifelessly back into the pond. Zhao deflected his blast with ease as the moonlight turned from red to dull gray. The girl with the white hair screamed.

 

Furiously, Zuko continued to attack Zhao, but the admiral fell back and his soldiers fell on Zuko instead. Two of the powerless waterbenders came to his aid, dodging blasts of fire and fighting hand to hand, while the other two pursued Zhao. By the time the soldiers were defeated, he was long gone.

 

Awkwardly, Zuko looked at the Water Tribe warriors who had fought with him. One was an older man, balding, with a thin white mustache. The other was a man in middle age. Both studied him cautiously, their posture defensive, prepared to fight him if need be.

 

“I’m sorry,” Zuko said, unsure why he felt the need to apologize to them. Temporary allies or not, they were Water Tribe. They were still the enemy. “I tried to stop him,” he continued in spite of himself, letting his arms drop to his side and his own fighting stance relax into something more neutral.

 

The white-haired girl was kneeling by the koi pond, where the remaining fish swam in frantic circles around the dead body of its mate. “He's gone,” the girl said dejectedly. “Now there’s no hope.”

 

“Not necessarily,” came another voice.

 

“Uncle?” Zuko breathed in astonishment, turning to face the newcomer. Sure enough, there stood Iroh on the other side of the pond. The Water Tribe warriors stepped closer to the girl protectively.

 

But Iroh only knelt on the far side of the pond, mirroring the girl’s position. “You have been touched by the moon spirit, haven’t you?” he asked her.

 

The girl looked at Iroh warily for a moment, then nodded. “The moon spirit saved my life,” she said. Then she straightened her shoulders. “Perhaps I can do the same for him.”

 

“Princess Yue,” said the older of the two warriors, placing a hand on her shoulder. “You would have to give the moon spirit your own life-force. It will kill you.”

 

“She shouldn’t have to do that,” Zuko protested. It was Zhao who had committed the wrong, created the unnatural imbalance, in the name of his own nation. It should be Zhao who paid the price for it, if there were justice.

 

“She is the only one who can,” Iroh said. “The moon spirit gave her an incredible gift - some of his own energy. She can choose to give it back.” He looked away from Zuko towards the elder Water Tribe warrior, who nodded and removed his hand from the girl’s shoulder.

 

Yue looked at Zuko for a moment. “This is my duty,” she said. Her voice was firm, but her eyes looked sad. The older warrior took a step back, and bowed his head. The younger warrior continued to watch the girl in solemn silence as she leaned forward and gently lifted the dead koi fish out of the pond. She closed her eyes, and the fish began to glow white - then it leaped to life once more, and joined its mate in the pond, the two spirits resuming their swirling dance.

 

Yue collapsed limply. The younger warrior rushed forward to catch her, but moments later her body disappeared from his arms as the moonlight returned to its natural blue-white hue. “She’s gone,” the man spoke for the first time, looking up at his elder. With the light restored, Zuko noticed that he had green eyes.

 

The older warrior called a water whip to his hands. Zuko stepped back, but he only struck at the air experimentally. “She is still with us,” the older man declared, looking up at the full moon. Then he returned his attention to Zuko’s uncle. “Iroh,” he said curtly, “do not think I am ungrateful that you and your nephew have tried to help us. But this night has seen a great tragedy befall our people.”

 

The green-eyed waterbender had risen to his feet, and he and Zuko eyed each other in equally matched suspicion. Zuko had no doubt he was also wondering how the two old men could possibly know each other.

 

“You must leave immediately, before anyone less understanding arrives to find two firebenders in our most sacred place,” the older waterbender continued.

 

“Master Pakku,” the younger waterbender protested, startled. “We can’t let them go!”

 

“We must,” Pakku said simply.

 

“Come, Prince Zuko,” Iroh beckoned. “Master Pakku is correct. We must go now, quickly.”

 

They fled the city, down to the icy shore, where the small raft Iroh must have used was waiting for them. As they set out on the water, Zuko looked back at the broken ice walls of the Northern Water Tribe, the clouds of black smoke rising from the city, and the greatly diminished Fire Nation navy forces now in full retreat.

 

“Why does it feel like nobody won today?” he asked quietly.

 

“Zhao’s invasion failed, but the Water Tribes paid a heavy price for it,” Iroh agreed as he tied off the line to the raft’s lone sail. “There have been losses on both sides. Yet the moon and ocean spirits are safe.” He came to sit next to Zuko. “That is a victory for everyone.”

 

Zuko leaned back on his hands and looked at the moon, now low on the horizon. He thought of the girl he didn’t even know, who wouldn’t have had to die if he’d managed to stop Zhao a few minutes earlier. “Some victory,” he remarked tiredly.

 

“You should get some rest, nephew,” was Iroh’s only reply. Zuko laid back on the deck, put one arm over his eyes to block out the moonlight, and tried to follow his uncle’s advice.

 

* * *

 

_ South Pole - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

Zuko and Katara ran for the shore where the boats were kept, with Aang trailing just behind, holding on fast to Katara’s hand. Zuko led them towards one of the smaller boats that could easily be crewed by three people. In the distance, they could see black shape of a Fire Nation ship approaching.

 

“Wait!” Aang called out, tugging on Katara’s arm. She slowed her pace. “Appa!” the boy cried. “We have to take Appa!”

 

Ahead of them, Zuko skidded to a halt in the snow and turned back to look at them. “Can we rely on him? To really fly?”

 

“We can,” Aang insisted. “We can always count on Appa.”

 

Zuko still looked uncertain. “We’ll never outrun a Fire Navy ship in that,” Katara pointed out, nodding towards the boat. “They’ll catch us before we can get up to speed.”

 

“Alright,” Zuko agreed reluctantly. “Where’s Appa?”

 

As if in answer, they heard the distinctive lowing of the sky bison, who lumbered over the ridge beyond the boats. “Come on!” Aang shouted, dashing for his mount. Zuko and Katara followed.

 

“Let’s hope he’s not tired anymore,” Zuko muttered as they climbed into the saddle again.

 

“Right,” Katara said. “Let’s hope.”

 

Settled on the bison’s head, Aang already had the reins in his hands. “Come on, Appa,” he pleaded, “yip yip!” Like last time, Appa lurched forward and rose into the air - but this time he kept rising, and gaining speed. Soon they were flying over the water, rapidly advancing on the ship in the distance. “Alright, buddy!” Aang cheered, patting the bison. “I knew you wouldn’t let me down!”

 

“They really can fly,” Katara heard Zuko mutter softly beside her. He looked a little bit awe-struck. She felt the same way. It was hard to believe that this was real, that the stories were true after all.

 

Aang looked back at them questioningly. “Should we head away from the ship now?” he asked.

 

“No,” Zuko said. “Get closer. We’ve got to be sure they’ve seen us.”

 

Aang nodded and kept Appa on his present course.

 

“Won’t they attack us?” Katara asked softly, so Aang wouldn’t hear, as they drew close enough to the ship to smell the soot on the wind.

 

“Not at first,” Zuko whispered back. “They’ll be too surprised.”

 

Sure enough, as they got closer still, shouts of alarm could be heard from the deck crew, but no fireballs were launched in their direction. “Alright, Aang,” Katara said, “I think that’s close enough!”

 

“Oh no,” Zuko breathed. His eyes were fixed on the top of the ship’s spire, where the Fire Nation flag flew. Beneath it was another banner with a stylized sea serpent. “Get us out of here, Aang!” he shouted.

 

Aang flicked Appa’s reins, and the bison groaned but picked up speed. Katara grabbed the edge of the saddle as the air rushed by them. She didn’t know what that banner meant, but it must be something bad to alarm Zuko like that. He was still looking back towards the ship, now growing smaller in the distance again, as they made their escape.

 

When they were sure they were safely away, Katara and Aang briefly discussed their course before deciding to head for Maidaan Island, the nearest of the islands in the former Air Nomad territory. They flew in silence for some time, at a less desperate pace. Zuko remained at the back of the saddle.

 

“What is it,” Katara asked after a while, coming to sit next to him. “What did the serpent banner mean?”

 

“It’s Zhao’s personal standard,” Zuko said. “He’s in command of that ship.”

 

“Zhao, as in Siege of the North Zhao?” Katara asked nervously. If the infamous would-be moon slayer had been patrolling so close to the south pole….she shuddered, thinking of the fate their village might have just narrowly avoided.

 

Zuko nodded in confirmation. Katara took hold of his hand. “He’ll follow us, right? He won’t attack the village, if he knows the Avatar isn’t there?”

 

“He won’t,” Zuko replied, squeezing her hand. “The Avatar is too tempting a prize for Zhao. He’ll come after us.” It was not much of a reassurance, but it was small blessing. Arvik was safe, at least.

 

After a few more moments of silence, Zuko reached for his pack and flipped it open to inspect its contents. He blinked in surprise when he saw what was on top, then carefully withdrew the whalebone flute. Amaruk really had thought of everything.

 

Zuko turned the flute over in his hands a few times, then put it to his lips and began to play. Katara recognized the tune as Arvik’s favorite lullaby, one Zuko had learned from his mother. She looked back towards the south, towards home, and listened to the gentle melody as the flying bison carried them further away from their son, towards uncertainty and danger.

 

It was just for a little while, Katara tried to reassure herself. They would see Aang safely as far as Gaoling. Then Kohnna could take over his training, the resistance would protect him, and she and Zuko could both come back. She would let nothing stand in their way.


	4. The Southern Air Temple

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aang convinces Zuko and Katara to make a small detour.
> 
> In the past, a delegation from the Northern Water Tribe arrives at the South Pole.

**Book I: Water**

 

**Chapter 3: The Southern Air Temple**

 

_ Maidaan Island, Southern Air Nomad Territory - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

Zuko awoke at dawn that morning, feeling cold and stiff. They had forgone a fire when they had made camp the night before, fearing the smoke would give away their presence on the uninhabited forest island. Sleeping huddled up to Appa had seemed an acceptable alternative at the time, when they were all exhausted from the day’s flight, but now Zuko regretted it as he extracted himself from his sleeping bag and got up to stretch his cramped limbs. He was sure they all smelled of damp sky bison.

 

Aang was still asleep, sprawled across Appa’s tail with no sign of discomfort. Airbenders were unbothered by all but the most extreme temperatures, Zuko remembered reading in a rare history of the Air Nomads that he had found somewhere, early on in his exile. He had committed that fact to memory as potentially useful information for finding and capturing the Avatar. That seemed like it had happened in another lifetime, now.

 

Katara was already awake, going through a basic kata on the other side of the clearing. Waterbenders did not meditate like firebenders did; their element was always in motion and so were they. Wordlessly, Zuko joined her, mimicking her graceful arcs of water with his fire. She caught his eye and smiled as he did. It was something he’d first done to tease her, when they were newly married, but they had both quickly realized that copying the other’s bending style was actually a rewarding challenge. After a few minutes, Zuko switched to a proper firebending form. Katara followed his lead, swirls and tendrils transforming into forceful sprays of water.

 

It was a relaxed bending practice, a simple routine they’d done countless times before. The south pole had been mercifully left alone up until now, and it had been a good three years since either of them had been in a real fight. A very good three years, all things considered. But finding the Avatar had changed everything.

 

Katara seemed to be having her own somber thoughts as she bent her water back into her waterskins when their routine came to an end, turning back towards Appa, who, like Aang, slept on. Zuko put one arm around her shoulders and she leaned into him.

 

“Should we wake him?” she asked after a moment, nodding towards Aang.

 

“I guess,” Zuko said, eyeing the gray morning sky. “We should probably get moving again soon.” Though the Air Nomad territories were mostly free of the dangers that plagued the Earth Kingdom, if they were being trailed, they didn’t want to stay in one place for too long. Not to mention, the quicker they got Aang where he needed to be, the quicker they could both return home to their son.

 

But neither of them made any move to wake Aang, and eventually Zuko spoke again. “I’ve been thinking about Zhao,” he said. “And it doesn’t make any sense.”

 

“That he’s in the southern seas?” Katara asked. That was part of it. Zuko had been unable to see what attraction remote trading outposts or an isolated village could have as targets for a glory-seeking man like Zhao, but it certainly wasn’t beyond his cruelty to attack them.

 

There was something else that was even odder, though. “That he only has one ship,” Zuko replied. Katara looked up at him with a wrinkled brow. “Why is the Fire Lord’s favorite admiral patrolling the southern waters in a single scout ship?”

 

Katara hummed in understanding, considering. “Maybe he’s not Azula’s favorite anymore,” she speculated. It was as good an explanation as any. News was slow and sporadic in coming to the south pole, brought only by the occasional merchant ship that bothered to come trade with them. Anything could have happened in the last three years. And if the rumors about his sister were true… 

 

“She always did have a habit of breaking her toys,” Zuko muttered darkly.

 

Katara made a disgusted noise in her throat, which aptly summarized how Zuko felt about the matter, too. They were spared having to contemplate his sister’s proclivities any further when Aang finally stirred, sitting up and rubbing at his eyes with a yawn.

 

“Good morning,” Aang said brightly, leaping to his feet. “Breakfast?”

 

Katara laughed. “Sure,” she said, crossing the clearing to rummage through their packs. “Let’s see what we can do about that.” Zuko went to help her as Aang gently prodded Appa awake.

 

“Hey, buddy,” Aang said, pressing his forehead to the bison’s snout as Appa blinked his giant eyes heavily. “Hope you slept well.” Appa grunted in reply. “Yeah, me too,” said Aang with a grin.

 

Their food rations consisted of mostly seal jerky and dried seaweed, and Aang politely declined the former. “Of course,” Zuko said, half to himself, as they sat down to eat. “Air Nomads are vegetarians.”

 

Aang looked at him in surprise. “Yeah,” he said. “You know a lot about Air Nomads, if they really haven’t been around in over a century.” There was undisguised hope in the boy’s voice, and Zuko felt a painful twist of guilt. He shrugged off Aang’s comment, and said nothing.

 

Katara tactfully changed the subject. “I’d like to start your waterbending lessons today,” she said, which did get the boy’s attention. “But we should cover some more distance this morning first. We might have to go slower - now that Zhao is tailing us we want to avoid being seen - but I think we can still make it to Kyoshi Island in four or five days.” She looked to Zuko, who nodded in agreement with her assessment. “Then it’s just a short journey to Gaoling, especially if we can fly across the bay.”

 

“Well,” said Aang with a shrug, “it will take a bit longer, flying east.” Zuko and Katara looked at each other in confusion. “Because of the winds?” Aang prompted, then sighed. “You’re not used to flying. The air currents make a big difference. We’ll be going against them for now, so it’ll slow Appa down.”

 

“All the more reason to get started then,” Zuko replied.

 

“Yeah,” Aang said, fiddling with a piece of seaweed, “about that. Do you think we could make a small detour? We’re not far from the Southern Air Temple right now.”

 

“What’s at the Southern Air Temple?” Katara asked carefully.

 

“It’s my home!” Aang said, his cheerful tone sounding just a bit forced. “If I really haven’t been there in a hundred and ten years, I’d like to see it again, just for a little while.” He looked to Zuko with an expression that reminded him of Arvik negotiating bedtime.  _ Just five more minutes, please, Daddy _ . “It would only take one more day,” Aang added plaintively, completing the effect.

 

Zuko sighed. Part of him knew it was a bad idea, that in all probability none of them would like what they’d find at that temple. But the chance to see his home one last time, no matter how bad it was…

 

“Alright,” Zuko said reluctantly. “I guess we can manage that.”

 

Katara gave him a sympathetic look. “A less direct route could help throw off anyone following us,” she reasoned. “So maybe it’s for the best.”

 

“Great!” Aang said excitedly. He finished his breakfast quickly and began chattering away to Appa once more as Katara and Zuko took care of what little packing up there was to do. “Looks like we’re going home,” he told the bison. Appa responded with a groan, as usual. It might have sounded like a happy groan, or maybe Zuko was just imagining things.

 

When they had climbed back into the saddle and the bison was in the air once more, Katara took hold of Zuko’s hand and squeezed it. He laced his fingers through hers, and didn’t let go for a long time.

 

* * *

 

_ South Pole - Ten Years Earlier _

 

Katara had dug out their father’s old fishing nets that morning hoping they would not be too badly in need of mending. With the spring fishing season now upon them, she didn’t intend to spend another year relying solely on Sokka’s ability with the spear, and she was pretty sure she could figure out how to help her brother with the nets. If they were in usable condition, that is. 

 

Unfortunately, while salvageable, the nets clearly needed a lot of work. With a sigh, she sat down and got to work, but she was only halfway through mending the tears in the first net when Sokka interrupted her. “Katara!” he shouted excitedly, throwing open the tent flap. “There’s a ship here! From the Northern Water Tribe!”

 

Katara dropped the net, thoughts of fishing immediately forgotten. A ship coming to the south pole was extraordinary enough, let alone from their sister tribe, with whom they’d had no contact in years. “The Northern Water Tribe?” she gasped. “Are they waterbenders?”

 

Sokka rolled his eyes. “Is that all you think about?” he asked as he grabbed her hands and pulled her to her feet. “Magic water?” 

 

“It’s an important part of our heritage,” she retorted, following him out of the tent and towards the shore. A crowd was gathering around the foreign ship - it was of longer, sleeker design than the southern clippers Katara was familiar with, and painted blue and gray. She and Sokka pushed their way to the front of the crowd, where Gran Gran stood with their Aunt Ina and her daughter, greeting the newcomers. There were men and women among them, including three girls who looked about Katara’s age. They wore their hair in elaborate styles that Katara had never seen before. She tugged self-consciously at her own braid.

 

“On behalf of my son, Chief Hakoda,” Gran Gran was saying, “I welcome the esteemed guests from our sister tribe in the north.”

 

“We thank you for your welcome,” replied the middle-aged man who was clearly the leader of the delegation with a polite bow. “I apologize that word could not be sent ahead to prepare you for our arrival, but Chief Arnook thought it best we conduct our journey with all haste.”

 

“Look at his eyes,” Sokka whispered to her none too quietly, “I don’t know about waterbenders, but you may have found yourself an earthbending teacher.” Katara elbowed her brother at the same time that their cousin Natika glared and shushed him. But the adults seemed to take no notice.

 

“Let us go to the village,” Gran Gran said. “You may tell us who you are and what your purpose is there.” The green-eyed man nodded in agreement with her suggestion.

 

As the crowd began to make its way the short distance from the shore to the small circle of tents that counted as the village, the buzz of excited whispers filled the air. “Have they come to conquer us?” asked one fretful voice. “Do you think they’ve seen our warriors since they left?” wondered another. “Did you see  _ their _ warriors?” replied a third voice that Katara recognized as belonging to Tira, her mother’s youngest sister. “Aren’t they handsome?”

 

A teasing retort died on Katara’s lips as Aunt Ina fell back a pace and grabbed her and Natika by the elbow. “Run ahead and start a fire,” she told them in a soft but stern tone. “Bring out the last of the winter stores. Quick!” She gave them a little push. Natika ran off to follow her mother’s directions without hesitation. Katara gave one last curious glance at the finely-dressed men and women from the north before she followed.

 

When they reached the village, Natika busied herself with the spark rocks by the central firepit while Katara gathered what food they had to spare for their guests. When everyone had caught up to them, Tira joined her and Natika to serve the food. Katara felt a twist of shame in her belly at having nothing better than salted fish and dried seaweed to offer. She hesitated to look the northerners in the eye, imagining their scornful looks as they accepted what must have paled in comparison to the hearty meals they were surely used to.

 

The three girls sat together. The tallest, who had twin braids woven with bright purple ribbon, smiled politely as she accepted a portion of fish from Katara. The other two were more shy - or perhaps more aloof. The round-faced girl who appeared to be the youngest picked at her food delicately, while the third eyed Katara curiously but said nothing. Her eyes, Katara noticed, also had a hint of green in them - perhaps she was the daughter of the delegation’s leader.

 

When everyone had finished eating, the green-eyed man got to his feet, and with another polite bow, began his introductions. “I am Amaruk,” he said, “and I was chosen by Master Pakku, the foremost of our waterbenders, to oversee the rebuilding of our sister tribe.” Katara noticed Gran Gran frown slightly at this, but she said nothing, and Amaruk went on. “This is my wife, Selen,” he indicated the woman seated next to his place, “and our children, Kohnna, Kinto, and Minak.” Kohnna sat up straighter when his father said his name, a serious, proud look on his face. Kinto did his best to copy his brother, but as he was much smaller, the effect was not the same. Minak, the girl Katara had guessed, gave a hesitant smile instead.

 

Amaruk proceeded to introduce the rest of the warriors by name: Senorit, the brothers Atial and Mekkino, and Ikino and Pamuk, who were brothers as well. Most of them looked only a few years older than Sokka - hardly an intimidating war party. Still, Katara noticed that while the younger women like Tira, who was herself only five years Sokka’s senior, eyed the young men with interest, the older ones whose husbands had left with the chief’s war party two years ago seemed more wary.

 

“This is Kida,” Amaruk continued, indicating the oldest of the women in his party. Her brown hair was streaked with white and elaborately braided, and she had a pleasant look about her. “She is an accomplished healer,” Amaruk said, and Katara thought there was just a hint of resentment in his tone. But he bowed his head deferentially to her nonetheless as he concluded, “I’ll let her introduce the rest.”

 

Kida stood as Amaruk returned to his place beside his wife. “First I must thank all of you for the warm welcome we have received,” she said sincerely, and Katara felt some of the knots in her stomach loosen. Kida went on to introduce her daughter Yanor, also a healer, and the two other girls were her apprentices, Lagora and Nivi, both sisters of the warriors. Yanor was newly married to Senorit as well. Katara nodded in approval as the tribe offered the newlyweds congratulations. Loners unattached to a family would have been met with suspicion. In that regard, at least, the northern chief had chosen wisely.

 

As Kida sat back down, the shaman Inuk spoke. “You have brought seven warriors, by my count,” he said, his cloudy eyes fixed on Amaruk. “What exactly are your intentions here?” A murmur went around the crowd - it was the question everyone had been waiting for.

 

“We are here to protect your tribe,” Amaruk answered. “And to offer our waterbending skills to help you rebuild. Recently we suffered a terrible Fire Nation attack in the north.” Katara shut her eyes against the painful memory of the last raid on her own village. “We almost lost everything,” Amaruk went on. “And so Chief Arnook realized that our two tribes must stand together, and support each other, in the face of such threats.”

 

The discussion continued for several hours after that, Amaruk and Kida speaking on behalf of the delegation, while Gran Gran and Inuk spoke for the tribe. They talked about building houses and walls, sending out proper hunting parties, forming a council, and all the other things it would take to turn their circle of tents into a proper village once more. Beside her, Sokka followed on every word eagerly, but Katara had mostly stopped paying attention. The one thing she wanted to know had been confirmed.

 

They’d brought waterbenders. At last she would have someone to teach her.

 

* * *

 

_ Southern Air Nomad Territory - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

As the sky bison flew higher into the mountains, the late autumn chill in the air grew even colder. Katara hardly seemed to care - she pulled up the hood of her parka, but otherwise showed no signs of discomfort. She did give Zuko a sympathetic smile as he grumbled quietly about the drop in temperature. Even having spent three winters at the south pole, he’d never gotten as comfortable with the cold as his wife was. Probably he never would. It was just a firebender thing.

 

Aang, for his part, took no notice of the cold, but only grew more excited the closer they got to their destination, talking eagerly of returning to his home. Zuko exchanged a nervous glance with Katara.

 

“Listen, Aang,” Katara said, crawling forward to sit next to the boy on the bison’s head. “Before we get to the air temple, we should talk about what happened there.”

 

Aang gave her a skeptical look. “Do you actually know what happened?” he asked.

 

“No,” Katara admitted. “But I’ve heard stories. And I know the Fire Nation army can be brutal. There’s a reason nobody’s seen any airbenders in so long.”

 

“But that reason doesn’t have to be that they’re all gone,” Aang reasoned optimistically. “Probably they’ve just been hiding. The only way to get to an air temple is by flying, and I don’t think the Fire Nation has any sky bison.” He threw a glance over his shoulder at Zuko. “Do they?”

 

“Not that I’ve ever seen,” Zuko conceded. “But all our histories say Fire Lord Sozin ordered the attack on the day that a comet passed through the sky, making firebenders more powerful. Who knows what they could have done.”

 

Aang shrugged. “That’s my point,” he said. “We don’t know. So we’ve got to find out.”

 

Katara put one hand on his shoulder. “As long as you’re prepared for the possibility that what we find out won’t be good,” she said.

 

Aang nodded. “I just need to know the truth,” he insisted. But Zuko could still hear the faint, persistent hope in his voice. Insanely, he found himself wondering if it was possible that some airbenders had survived - official Fire Nation histories had certainly been wrong about other things. He shook his head, dismissing the childish fantasy.

 

They flew in silence until the temple came into sight. The white towers capped with blue spires rose out of the misty mountain peaks, looking like they were floating on the clouds themselves. “There it is!” Aang cried with delight. “The Southern Air Temple!”

 

“It’s beautiful,” Katara said appreciatively.

 

As they drew nearer, however, Zuko could see that the white stone of the towers was pitted and cracked, the painted designs adorning the doorways faded, and the open areas overgrown with scraggly brush. If anyone still lived here, they certainly weren’t doing a very good job of maintaining the temple.

 

Aang took in the state of disrepair of their surroundings as Appa landed on a broad ridge outside the lowest tower. “This courtyard was where I used to practice the air scooter,” he said wistfully, dismounting from the bison’s head. “And over there is where we played airball…” He ran to the edge of the ridge and raised one hand to point to a rectangular court of wooden poles below them. A square goalpost stood at one end. It looked like its counterpart at the opposite end had rotted and fallen over. Aang let his hand drop back to his side. “This place used to be full of life,” he said sadly. “There were monks and lemurs and bison everywhere. Now it’s just full of weeds.”

 

Zuko felt like he’d been punched in the gut. He tried to think of something he could say to make Aang feel better, but the words wouldn’t come. A flash of red in the snow down by the airball court caught his eye, and he hastily put an arm around Aang’s shoulders and directed him back towards the tower. “Come on,” he said, “show us around the rest of the temple.”

 

“Alright,” Aang said, brightening a bit. He ran ahead of them towards the tower.

 

Katara gave Zuko a pointed look. “You saw it too,” she said softly as they followed Aang at a distance, so he wouldn’t hear. “That armor. The Fire Nation was definitely here.”

 

Zuko nodded. “I know he’s got to realize what happened eventually, but…”

 

“Maybe it doesn’t have to be like that,” Katara finished for him.

 

They caught up with Aang, who had stopped before a wooden statue of an elderly monk. The seated figure wore a serene smile and a tasseled necklace with the triple spiral airbending symbol on the central pendant. Snow had collected on the statue’s head and shoulders; Aang reverently brushed it off.

 

“This is Monk Gyatso,” he explained. “He’s one of the greatest airbenders ever. He taught me everything I know.” He stared up into the statue’s kindly face for a long moment, which Zuko and Katara were both more than happy to allow him.

 

When Aang spoke again, it was in a far more serious tone. “Gyatso once told me that when I was ready, I would find the guidance I needed inside the air temple sanctuary.” He squared his shoulders and strode towards the doors behind the statue. “I think it’s time.”

 

Aang led them through a long corridor to a massive door with a complex system of pipes and valves holding it closed. “The sanctuary is still sealed,” he said with relief. “Maybe this is where the other airbenders have been hiding!”

 

“I don’t know if anyone could have survived in there for over a hundred years,” Katara said with gentle skepticism.

 

“Why not?” Aang argued. “Appa and I survived that long inside an iceberg, which seems way less likely.”

 

“We still don’t know how you did that,” Zuko pointed out. “But it’s probably got something to do with the fact that you’re the Avatar.”

 

Aang’s face fell slightly, but he shrugged. “Only one way to find out,” he said. Taking up a bending stance, he sent two powerful blasts of air into the open ends of the pipes. The valves opened one by one, each emitting a different tone, and the massive door rolled back, revealing a dark, cavernous chamber beyond.

 

As the three of them entered the dimly lit room, there was a brief moment where Zuko thought it was full of people after all. But he quickly realized they were only statues, arranged in a spiraling formation around the floor and up the sides of the walls. When he was once again fairly certain no one was watching them, he tugged off one glove and lit a flame in the palm of his hand. He held it aloft so they could see the room more clearly, but the ceiling was so high that the line of statues still stretched into opaque darkness above them.

 

“Who are all these people?” Katara asked, her voice hushed and reverent.

 

“I don’t know,” Aang replied. He stopped in front of a statue of a woman with arrow tattoos like his own. “But this one’s an airbender!”

 

Katara looked at the statue to the right of the female airbender. He wore a wolfskin headdress and held a spear in one hand. “This one’s clearly Water Tribe,” she said.

 

“It’s the Avatar cycle,” Zuko realized aloud. “Air, then water…” He pointed to the statue of the woman next to the Water Tribe man, who wore familiar warrior’s garb. “That must be Kyoshi, the last earth Avatar, which would make this…” His voice died as his eyes fell on the final statue in the sequence. The man wore the formal robes of a Fire Nation noble, his long hair drawn up into a topknot which was held in place by an easily recognizable flame-shaped crown.

 

Aang came to stand next to him, and stared up at the statue. “Avatar Roku,” he said in a faraway voice. “The Avatar before me.”

 

Katara looked to Zuko. “Your ancestor?” she asked.

 

Aang blinked in surprise, seeming to come back to himself. “What?” he asked, looking up at Zuko with the beginnings of a mischievous grin.

 

“Roku was my mother’s great-grandfather,” Zuko confirmed.

 

“You mean I was your great-great-grandfather in a past life?” Aang exclaimed. “Does that make us family?”

 

“Um, well,” Zuko sputtered awkwardly. But he was spared having to formulate an answer by a noise from the corridor behind them. Extinguishing the flame in his hand, he grabbed Aang and ducked behind the statue of Roku. Katara likewise hid behind Avatar Kyoshi.

 

Heart pounding, Zuko’s mind raced through the possibilities of who could have found them: Zhao or one of his men seemed most likely, bandits or squatters who had taken up residence in the temple a close and still potentially dangerous second. But as he listened, he heard no voices to confirm either possibility. In fact, the footsteps sounded more like the shuffling of a small animal than a person.

 

Cautiously, he peered around the side of the statue, feeling Aang leaning over him to do the same. Sure enough, there was no one there but a little white creature with big eyes and even bigger ears.

 

“A lemur!” Aang shouted excitedly, leapfrogging over Zuko and running towards the creature. The lemur made an alarmed chittering sound and scurried away, back down the corridor. “Come back!” Aang called, chasing after it.

 

Katara laughed as Zuko shook his head. “I’ll go get him,” he said, getting to his feet and running after the boy.

 

Aang was fast - no doubt the airbending helped - and he’d had a head start. Zuko neared the end of the corridor and the doors to the outside just in time to see Aang leap over the railing at the edge of the ridge after the lemur, laughing as he floated down the nearly fifty foot drop. Zuko groaned and began his own much more careful descent down the stairs to the side, watching as Aang followed his quarry towards a dilapidated building that looked like it had been a storehouse of some kind.

 

The sound of the boy’s laughter abruptly cut off as he disappeared inside the building, and Zuko anxiously quickened his pace.

 

* * *

 

_ South Pole - Ten Years Earlier _

 

Kida had taken responsibility for Katara’s waterbending training right away. First she’d taught her to properly harness the pushing and pulling energy she had always been able to feel in the water and ice around her, to guide and direct her element by gently redirecting its natural flow rather than wrestling with it. The basic techniques mastered in a matter of weeks, Katara had then graduated to applying these skills to the chi paths in the human body, using waterbending to heal.

 

It wasn’t very exciting, but Katara figured it must be a necessary foundation. She was content learning to walk before she could run. Still, sometimes she would see Amaruk sparring with his older son Kohnna - they were the only waterbenders among the warriors - and she couldn’t help feeling envious at how effortless they made the complex forms look. But she did her best to put those feelings aside, assuring herself that her time would come.

 

After several months of healing lessons, Katara began to wonder just when that time would be. One afternoon, as she helped Kida’s other apprentices prepare some carefully collected medicinal herbs for drying, she worked up the nerve to broach the subject.

 

“When did Kohnna start warrior training?” she asked casually, as she tied a bundle of yarrow to the frame of the tent. Amaruk had helped Kida build a proper ice structure for a healing hut soon after their arrival in the south, but Kida still kept a tent out back as her apothecary. Something about the effect of the whale skin on the air quality made it better suited, according to her.

 

“Oh, a few years ago,” Nivi replied disinterestedly from her seat on the floor, where she was tying bundles of yarrow together. The ribbons in her braids were a pale blue today. Lagora, the youngest of the girls, was carefully plucking the berries from several redthorn branches, to prepare them for cleaning and preserving. 

 

“When he was our age?” Katara asked in surprise. Kohnna was the same age as Sokka - a few weeks younger, actually, as Sokka was usually keen to point out. 

 

“I guess, yeah,” said Nivi, looking up from her work. “Why?”

 

“Well, I know I’m still a novice,” Katara said. “And I don’t really know much about how waterbending training typically works…” Lagora muttered an agreement under her breath, which Katara pointedly ignored. “But why haven’t you two started yet?”

 

“Started what?” Lagora asked in confusion, setting aside a fully stripped branch and picking up another.

 

“Warrior training, obviously,” Katara said impatiently. “We have to learn to fight at some point, don’t we?”

 

Nivi looked at her, dumbfounded, while Lagora laughed. “Wow,” the younger girl said. “You really do know nothing, Katara.”

 

“Be nice,” Nivi scolded. “It’s not her fault.” Turning back to Katara, she said matter-of-factly, “The men fight. The women heal.” Then she went back to her work as if that settled the question.

 

Katara scoffed. “Who made that rule?”

 

“The spirits,” Lagora responded haughtily, “when they gave the gift of healing to us alone.”

 

Nivi nodded in agreement. “In all the history of our tribes,” she said, tying off another bundle, “there’s never been known to be a male healer.” She handed the bundle to Katara, who took it, but made no move to hang it with the others. “Some stories say that Kuruk could heal people, but he was the Avatar,” Nivi went on. “And other stories say he didn’t do it with waterbending, anyway.”

 

“But why can’t women fight, too?” Katara persisted, brandishing the yarrow bundle in her hand in frustration. “There’s no reason we shouldn’t be able to.”

 

Nivi shrugged. “It’s not done.”

 

“Healing is our duty and our honor,” Lagora concluded, tossing a handful of berries into the basket beside her. “We leave the fighting to the boys.”

 

“That sounds stupid,” Katara complained bitterly. 

 

Nivi looked up and handed her another completed bundle. “Are you hanging those or not?” she chided gently. Katara got the message loud and clear: end of discussion. With a final angry sigh, she got back to work.

 

When they left the tent that afternoon, Amaruk met them outside. There was an ambitious gleam in his green eyes that made Katara uneasy, but Lagora and Nivi didn’t seem bothered. They greeted him politely and he asked after their progress with Kida, all three of them exchanging pleasantries with smiles while Katara hung back awkwardly. Soon enough the other girls excused themselves, and Katara hurried to follow them as they left, but then stopped herself. She turned back to look at Amaruk once more, and found him still watching her with that same unsettling look.

 

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you pleased with yourself?” she asked. “You’re making our tribe into a perfect little copy of the north, aren’t you?”

 

Amaruk gave her a patient smile. “That has never been our intention,” he said. “We are only here to help you, to do what’s best for your tribe.”

 

“I wonder if it wouldn’t have been best for our tribe if you’d never come,” Katara said darkly, but she regretted the words almost before they’d left her mouth. There were so many good things that had happened in the last several months, so many benefits to the northerners’ presence that Amaruk could throw in her face. Everyone was better fed, clothed, and housed than they had been a year ago, not to mention what would come in the future...

 

Amaruk summarized it all succinctly: “If we had not come,” he said, “your tribe would be facing extinction within a generation.”

 

And while some part of her might have been tempted to retort that they’d be better off going extinct than submitting to a chauvinistic regime of outsiders, the thought of her village slowly fading into the frozen landscape as the last of the elders died with no one to give them the proper funeral rites made her shudder, and the words died in her throat.

 

Amaruk was still looking at her eagerly. He seemed to be waiting for her to say something more. When she remained silent, his face fell in disappointment. Though she had no idea why, the thought that she’d denied him some satisfaction was her meager consolation as he bid her good day, and left her alone.

 

* * *

 

_ Southern Air Temple - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

“Aang?” Zuko called out worriedly as he entered the run down storehouse. “Don’t worry about the lemur, I’m sure it’s…” The words of reassurance died on his tongue and his blood ran cold as he saw what was inside the building.

 

Half buried in snow and ash lay the scattered bones and armor of over a dozen Fire Nation soldiers. At the far end of the room, slumped against the wall, was another skeleton, the tattered fragments of gold and orange clothing and the tasseled necklace with the airbending symbol leaving no doubt as to the identity of the remains. Monk Gyatso had put up a good fight, by all appearances, but in the end he had been killed by the Fire Nation, like all the others.

 

Aang had sunk to the floor and pressed the heels of both hands to his eyes. His shoulders shook as he sobbed pitifully. Zuko silently cursed himself. If he’d just let Aang see the stupid armor earlier...finding out like this was so much worse.

 

“Aang,” he repeated softly, kneeling next to the boy. “I’m so sorry…” He placed a consoling hand on his back.

 

Aang looked up at him for a moment, utterly lost in his devastation, before his tear-streaked face twisted with anger. “Get away from me!” he shouted, shoving at Zuko with his bare hands. The force of the push was hardly enough to move Zuko, and Aang fell backwards, scrambling away instead. “The Fire Nation did this! You’re one of them!”

 

“Aang, listen to me,” Zuko pleaded, spreading his hands in a non-threatening gesture. But Aang was too distraught to listen. He let out an inarticulate yell and lashed out at Zuko with his airbending this time. The blast of air caught Zuko off guard and threw him into the wall behind him. When he recovered himself, Aang was on his feet. His eyes and his tattoos were glowing again, his teeth bared in an angry snarl as a violent wind whipped around him.

 

“Aang!” came Katara’s voice from the doorway of the building. She ran to the boy and grabbed his hand. “I know that it hurts! The Fire Nation nearly destroyed my people, too! This war has taken so much from all of us, but it doesn’t mean you’ve lost everything!” The winds died down as Aang looked up at Katara. “Zuko and I are here for you now,” she continued. “You’re not alone.”

 

Aang pointed one glowing hand at Zuko. “He’s Fire Nation,” he protested with the broken voice of a scared child and the thundering voices of hundreds of Avatars past. That was all he said, but it was accusation enough, and Zuko had never felt the shame of his heritage weigh on him more heavily than in that moment. No Earth Kingdom jeers or Water Tribe suspicion could equal the righteous fury of this Air Nomad child.

 

“Yes, he is,” Katara said. “And he’s a good man.”

 

Aang’s hand fell. There was a tense moment, but then the blue glow faded from his eyes, and his knees buckled. Katara caught him as he collapsed and drew him into a hug as he broke down crying once more. “They’re really gone,” he sobbed. “If they got here, they must have gotten the other air temples as well. I really am the last airbender.”

 

Zuko approached them cautiously and knelt down to look Aang in the eye. “I’m sorry for the things my people have done,” he began. “But Katara’s right. You have us now.” He held out one hand. Aang hesitated a moment, but then took it. “We’ll be your family,” Zuko continued, “and I promise we’ll never let anyone hurt you again. Do you understand?”

 

Aang nodded solemnly, and Zuko squeezed his hand. The three of them stayed like that until Aang’s sobbing died down into the occasional hitch in his breath. Then Katara pulled him to his feet. “Come on,” she said, “let’s get out of here.”

 

“Yeah,” Aang agreed, following her out of the building and back towards where they had left Appa. “There’s nothing left here.”

 

When he was reunited with the bison, Aang pressed his forehead to Appa’s snout as he had that morning, which seemed so long ago now. “Looks like it’s just us,” he said sadly. “We’re the only survivors.” Appa groaned sympathetically. At least, Zuko thought it sounded sympathetic, but it could have just been his imagination.

 

A chattering sound from the saddle on Appa’s back drew their attention, and a pair of furry white ears poked above the saddle’s rim, followed by the small, round face of a lemur. Aang gasped and bounded up to join the creature, but it made no move to run away this time, leaping onto the boy’s shoulder instead and nuzzling its nose against his face. Aang laughed. “Were you waiting for me here the whole time?” he asked, scratching the lemur under its chin.

 

“Looks like it,” Katara said as she and Zuko climbed up to Appa’s saddle as well. The lemur leaped onto her shoulder, sniffed at her hair, and then did the same to Zuko, before bounding back to Aang and curling up in the boy’s lap.

 

“I think he wants to come with us,” Aang said, looking to Katara, then to Zuko, with wide, expectant eyes. “Can he?”

 

Zuko was struck by another wave of homesickness as he thought of how much Arvik would love the lemur. But protecting his son had meant leaving him behind, just as much as protecting Aang meant getting him to the Underground. Both boys deserved better, really, but this was how things were. This was how the war had made things.

 

“Sure,” Katara was saying, her eyes on Zuko, and he knew she was thinking much the same things.

 

“Great!” Aang exclaimed. “I’m going to call him Momo!”

 

Katara crawled forward to Aappa’s head and took the reins while Aang played with his new pet. Once they were well in the air, Aang leaned against the back of the saddle and watched the temple slip out of sight into the clouds. Zuko went and sat next to Katara. She leaned into his shoulder, and he put an arm around her waist.

 

“I hope we made the right choice,” she said softly.

 

Zuko thought of the lingering melancholy in Aang’s eyes as he had watched the air temple disappear behind them. He thought of how he had resolutely refused to look back when he’d left the Fire Nation years ago, certain he would be returning soon. He imagined Arvik watching the horizon, waiting for his parents to come home.

 

“Yeah,” he replied. “I hope so, too.”

 

He wondered if his mother had ever had the same thought.

 

 

 


	5. The Road Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aang learns more about how the world has changed while he was missing.
> 
> In the past, Prince Zuko faces the consequences of his actions at the north pole.

**Book I: Water**

 

**Chapter 4: The Road Home (The Winter Solstice, Part 1)**

 

_Kyoshi Island - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet_

 

They reached Kyoshi Island over a week after leaving the Southern Air Temple - Katara and Zuko’s estimate had been too generous. They had not only failed to factor in the air currents, which Aang knew was hardly their fault as novices to flying, but the evasive backtracking and zig-zagging they’d had to do after another close encounter with Zhao’s ship had set them back as well. Zuko and Katara at least seemed relieved at the confirmation that Zhao was not attacking their home in the south pole. Aang wondered what Zhao could have done to make them so afraid of him.

 

The time they had spent travelling had not been totally wasted, either, for Katara had begun Aang’s waterbending lessons. She’d started with simple instruction on feeling the push and pull of the water. It reminded Aang of his earliest airbending lessons, which was maybe why he got the hang of it so quickly, and why he found it kind of boring. He’d already mastered one element, so it made sense that picking up another one would be easier. He figured by the time he got to firebending, he’d probably be a master in no time at all.

 

But Katara didn’t seem to appreciate that he was a fast learner. When Aang had asked her if he could move on to more advanced waterbending forms, she’d simply clucked her tongue and told him to be patient, then made him go through the first form again. True, he hadn’t done it perfectly, but obviously that was because he was _bored_ , not because he couldn’t.

 

So by the time Appa touched down on the shores of Kyoshi Island, Aang was dying for some excitement. He had his boots off in an instant, and leaped down from the bison’s head with an excited laugh. “This is the perfect place for elephant koi!” he called over his shoulder as he ran for the water. “I’m gonna ride one! Watch!”

 

Zuko shouted something back at him, but Aang was already pulling his shirt over his head as he ran and didn’t quite catch what he said. Leaving his clothes on the beach, he ran headlong into the frigid water and swam out towards where he could see the orange fins of the elephant koi gliding above the waves.

 

He snagged the fin of the nearest of the great fish and found his footing on its back. For one wonderful, exhilarating moment, he felt the wind and the ocean spray whipping past him as he threw back his head and laughed. It felt so good just to laugh.

 

But suddenly a coil of water rose up from the sea, wrapped itself around his waist, and yanked him off the back of the elephant koi. He landed with a grunt on an ice floe that certainly hadn’t been there a moment ago, at Katara’s feet. He looked up at her peevishly. “Aw, come on, Katara…”

 

Tight-lipped, Katara offered no argument, but hastily propelled the ice floe towards the shore. Aang looked back longingly towards the school of elephant koi - and soon realized the reason for Katara’s haste, as he saw an even larger gray fin gliding through the water towards them. Three of the elephant koi disappeared from sight in quick succession.

 

When they reached the shore a moment later, Aang felt even more miserable than he had before they’d gotten to Kyoshi. “What were you thinking?” Zuko scolded, arms crossed over his chest, as Aang slowly pulled his clothes back on. “Of all the ill-conceived, reckless, dangerous stunts to pull...Were you trying to get eaten by the unagi?”

 

Aang felt like his heart had sunk all the way to his toes. He kicked at the sand nervously. “I just wanted to do something fun,” he said in a small voice. At Zuko’s feet, Momo imitated the firebender’s posture, arms crossed and ears flattened in disapproval. Great, even the lemur was mad at him.

 

Zuko frowned. “We are _not_ here to have fun,” he said sternly. Aang’s heart slipped out of his toes and burrowed its way into the sand beneath his feet.

 

“What he means is,” Katara cut in, putting a hand on Aang’s shoulder, “it’s our job to keep you safe. And it doesn’t help us do our job if you put yourself in danger like that.”

 

Aang sighed and forced a smile, looking up at Katara. “I guess you’re right,” he said. “Getting eaten by a giant sea serpent wouldn’t have been very fun anyway.”

 

“Definitely not,” Katara agreed. Zuko shook his head, but relaxed his arms, and Aang could see he was no longer scowling. He even put an arm around Aang’s shoulders and drew him into a brief side hug before they started back up the beach towards the treeline, where Appa was waiting for them.

 

“We should head to the village,” Zuko said as they came to the clearing at the start of the path into the forest. “Maybe they’ve had some word from Suki recently.”

 

But before Aang could ask who Suki was, Katara pointed over his shoulder. “Looks like they’ve come out to meet us,” she said.

 

A middle-aged woman dressed in blue stood at the front of a group of villagers. Aang noticed she was one of the younger members of the group; most were elderly. She did not look pleased to see them, but clearly was not hostile. She had no weapons, and it was not a fighting force she had brought with her. Still, Momo scurried up Aang’s back and tried to hide under his short orange shawl.

 

“Sachiko,” Katara greeted the older woman in a friendly tone. “Zuko and I are on our way to Gaoling. We were just wondering if you’ve had any news from Suki?”

 

Sachiko looked even less pleased. “No,” she said curtly. “I haven’t heard from my daughter in quite some time. And I’m afraid you’ll have to leave Kyoshi, immediately.”

 

“Can we speak to Oyaji first?” Zuko asked calmly.

 

“Oyaji passed on last winter,” Sachiko informed him, raising her chin. “I am governor now. And I say we have no business with you. You must leave.” The crowd behind her shifted and muttered anxiously.

 

“We don’t want any trouble,” Aang said placatingly, taking a few steps towards Appa. “We can move on, if we’re not welcome here.”

 

Sachiko gave him a strange look, as if just noticing him for the first time. “Is the Water Tribe now sending its sons to die when they have barely been weaned from their mother’s breast?” she asked bitterly.

 

Aang felt a sting of resentment at that remark. He wasn’t _that_ young. But Zuko spoke before he could think of a retort. “The boy is under our protection,” he said. “Let us worry about him.”

 

“But I don’t understand,” Katara continued. “You know us, Sachiko. You know we mean no harm here.”

 

“You may not mean any harm, but harm may follow you nonetheless,” Sachiko replied cryptically. “We have forbidden warriors on the island.”

 

“But Kyoshi is famous for her warriors,” Zuko protested.

 

“And where are the famous warriors of Kyoshi?” Sachiko asked, her voice rising, as she spread her arms wide. “For nearly ten years we have sent our daughters to fight and die, and none have come home. We are not many in number on this island. We can lose no more. Our girls must stay here, and the war must stay away.”

 

The crowd of villagers murmured in assent. Aang noticed that many of them were eyeing Zuko with undisguised suspicion.

 

“What would Avatar Kyoshi say,” Katara said darkly, “if she saw you chaining your daughters to the hearth out of fear like this?”

 

“What would she say if she saw her home one day cease to exist?” Sachiko shot back. She pointed at Aang. “You say that boy is under your protection? This village is under mine. I do what I must to keep my people safe.”

 

Katara stiffened. “I see,” she said.

 

“I’m sorry, Katara,” Sachiko replied, her voice softening slightly for the first time. “You must go.”

 

Katara nodded, and turned towards Aang. “Alright,” she said to him. “Let’s go.”

 

They climbed back onto Appa’s saddle - Momo led the way, clearly eager to be gone - and the crowd began to break up and head back towards the village. Sachiko stayed. Zuko hesitated. “If we see Suki,” he said carefully, “is there a message you’d like us to give her?”

 

Sachiko closed her eyes. “You can remind her of what she already knows,” she said, sounding much older than she had before. “She can come home anytime she wants, if she will leave her weapons and her warpaint behind.”

 

Zuko stared hard at her for a moment. “You know she won’t do that,” he said sharply. “You’ve as good as banished her from the island.”

 

“That is her choice,” Sachiko replied, “not mine.”

 

“Keep telling yourself that,” Zuko spat. Then he turned on his heel and hauled himself up onto Appa’s saddle. “Get us out of here, Aang,” he said when he was settled.

 

With a flick of the reins, Aang complied. As Appa rose higher in the air, he spared one glance back at Kyoshi Island. Sachiko was by then just a lonely blue dot on the beach, unmoving, watching them leave. He felt terribly sad for her, without really understanding why.

 

* * *

 

_Fire Nation Colonies - Ten Years Earlier_

 

Iroh and Zuko had sailed on their makeshift raft for three weeks before they found a safe harbor in Kozei, one of the oldest settlements in the colonies. Iroh had been delighted with their destination - Kozei was known for its mild climate, beautiful cherry trees, and excellent health spas. The perfect place to recover from the ardors of their journey, he had said.

 

Zuko was happy to let his uncle have his relaxation, but no amount of picturesque scenery or creature comforts could soothe the dull ache in his chest, and the thought of what had transpired at the north pole still left him feeling vaguely ill. He had only tried to do what was right, to protect the Fire Nation from Zhao’s hubris, but it seemed like all he had managed to do was make things worse. He’d written a hasty letter to his father explaining his actions as soon as they’d arrived in the colonies, but, of course, his only answer so far had been silence.

 

The first day of spring and the start of the new year came with all its attendant festivities. Uncle Iroh had left the resort where they were staying to go into town for the parade. He had tried to cajole Zuko into coming with him, but Zuko had refused. Being jostled around in a crowd of noisy, happy people did not sound very appealing to him right now.

 

Instead, Zuko sat alone on the balcony of their guest house, staring at the waterfalls in the distance without seeing them. He felt impossibly tired, in spite of the long hours he had slept. He knew he would need to resume his search for the Avatar soon. Maybe he would look further inland this time, since he no longer had a ship - his had been one of the casualties of the failed siege, sunk by the Northern Water Tribe and all souls lost. The Earth Kingdom was vast and full of potential hiding places for a long-lost Avatar who didn’t want to be found.

 

But he couldn’t even summon his usual enthusiasm for his quest anymore. A little traitorous voice in the back of his mind kept asking him what would happen when he succeeded. Would an Avatar held in captivity by men like Zhao be any better than a dead moon spirit? For he knew all too well the blind cruelty that the foolish old men who led the Fire Nation military were capable of…

 

He shook his head and dismissed that thought. His father was not a cruel man, like the others. He only wanted the Avatar caught so he could end the war and bring peace to the world. He would never approve of something like Zhao’s plan for the moon spirit.

 

“Hello, brother,” a sickly-sweet voice interrupted his thoughts. “Still meeting your daily quota of sulking, I see, even in exile.”

 

Zuko looked up to see his sister framed in the doorway, with Uncle Iroh standing behind her looking apologetic. “Look who I found in town today,” Iroh said unnecessarily. “An unexpected family reunion is quite a way to start the new year!”

 

Zuko didn’t get to his feet. “Azula,” he said warily. “What do you want?”

 

Azula made a sound as if hurt and pressed a perfectly manicured hand to her heart. “Is that the greeting I get after three years? And here I thought all those thoughtful letters meant you still cared for your little sister.”

 

Zuko frowned. “All those thoughtful replies showed just how much my little sister cares for me.”

 

Azula grinned and waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, you musn’t mind about that,” she chided him. “Some of us have actual royal duties keeping us busy. If I’ve let my personal correspondence fall by the wayside, it certainly wasn’t intentional.” She extended her arm as if to help him up. “We’re still family, aren’t we, Zuzu?”

 

“Don’t call me that,” Zuko growled, ignoring her proffered arm and remaining seated, slouching further in his chair. It was a petty act of defiance, but somehow that was the sort of thing Azula always brought him to. “You didn’t come all this way just to make nice. Why are you really here?”

 

“Fine,” Azula said, settling herself into the chair opposite him with flawless poise, right leg crossed over left. “Straight to business then.” She folded her hands and settled them on her knee. The red crown in her hair caught the afternoon sun. “The truth is, I’ve come to tell you that Father was impressed by your actions at the north pole.”

 

Zuko blinked in surprise, sitting up a little straighter in spite of himself. “He got my letter?”

 

“Oh yes,” Azula replied. “And he sees your point completely. Zhao’s plan was madness, and had to be stopped. It was very honorable of you to stand up to him like that, when few men would have dared.”

 

“Father said that?” Zuko asked in disbelief. “He said what I did was...honorable?”

 

Azula shrugged. “I can’t remember his exact words, but that was the gist of it.”

 

Zuko was speechless. Uncle Iroh spoke up at last in his stead. “In that case, it would seem my brother has proved himself to be an astute judge of character,” he said dryly.

 

“Indeed,” Azula agreed in a flat tone. She never had patience for Uncle Iroh - and Zuko knew talking to their uncle sometimes required a great deal of patience. “The point of this,” Azula went on, “is that Father thinks you’ve proved yourself. Zhao has been demoted and punished, and your banishment is being lifted.” She looked down at her own neatly folded hands, as if overcome with emotion. “We want you to come home, Zuko.”

 

 _Home_.

 

It was the one thing he wanted, more than honor or victory - to finally go home. He’d always thought that was his secret cowardice, the shameful yearning for safety and security when there was a war to be fought. But now, given the chance at last, he didn’t care. The words were already forming on his lips to accept the offer, to go with Azula.

 

A gentle breeze blew the loose locks of hair that framed his sister’s face in front of her lowered eyes, and he hesitated, remaining silent. Unbidden, the thought occurred to him that Azula was the same age as the Water Tribe princess who had given her life to save the moon spirit - that girl was the real hero, not him, and _she_ would never get to go home again...

 

Azula looked up. “I can see you need time to process this,” she said sympathetically. “That’s only natural.” She got to her feet. “My ship will be leaving at sunset. I do hope you’ll be on board with me.” Then she bid Uncle a good day, and left.

 

Iroh sat in the chair his niece had vacated, and waited for his nephew to speak. “Home,” Zuko whispered at last. “It sounds almost too good to be true.”

 

“Hmm,” his uncle replied, stroking his beard. “Perhaps it is.”

 

Zuko glared at him. “You don’t think my father wants me back?”

 

“I don’t think Azula can be trusted,” Iroh replied in a neutral tone. “She has told you everything you want to hear - she would not do that without some ulterior motive.”

 

“That doesn’t mean it’s not true,” Zuko insisted stubbornly.

 

“No,” Iroh admitted. “But we can’t be certain that it is.”

 

“It makes sense, doesn’t it?” Zuko argued. “You said yourself, I’ve done everything possible to restore my honor. And opposing Zhao _was_ the right thing to do. Father must realize this.”

 

Iroh fixed him with a pitying look. “I think you give your father too much credit,” he said sadly.

 

Zuko sprang to his feet, fists clenched. “I think you don’t give him enough!” he shouted. “You always see the worst in him, and now you can’t believe he could possibly want me to come home, just because you’re-”

 

Iroh was looking up at him now, but his expression hadn’t changed. “Because I am what, Prince Zuko?”

 

The insults he had been about to hurl at his uncle died on his lips. Iroh continued to gaze at him with that same look of patience mingled with sorrow that he had given Princess Yue, just before...

 

Zuko fled the balcony, searching in vain for somewhere he could escape from thoughts of Avatars and moon spirits and that aching feeling that everything was still going all wrong.

 

* * *

 

_South-Western Earth Kingdom - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet_

 

They landed on the mainland shortly after departing from Kyoshi. Zuko grabbed an empty canvas sack and went to forage for food, muttering something about Aang needing more than seaweed, for which Aang was grateful. He’d tried not to complain, but the dry, salty rations really weren’t very filling.

 

“Let’s work on your waterbending,” Katara said curtly after Zuko had left. Aang could tell Sachiko’s rejection had rattled her, though neither she nor Zuko had wanted to talk about it after they’d left the island. Aang hadn’t pressed, but had filed the name _Suki_ away in his mind with all the other mysteries about his impromptu guardians’ lives. There was little about Katara and Zuko that made sense to him, but then, the state of the world overall had been confusing ever since he’d woken up at the south pole.

 

As he and Katara passed a stream of water back and forth between them - a standard, basic, _boring_ warm up exercise - Aang decided to venture what he thought would be a relatively safe question. “So, we’re heading for Gaoling,” he began, catching the water and spinning it around his waist a few times before passing it back. “Is that where the leaders of the resistance against the Fire Nation are?”

 

Katara raised an eyebrow at his improvisation and pointedly caught and redirected the water precisely according to form. “Sort of,” she replied. “We don’t really talk about it outside - for safety. You never know who might be listening.”

 

Aang was disappointed with this vague answer, but he could see her point. “You and Zuko have both fought with the resistance before, though,” he said, sending the water through a loop over his head before passing it back again.

 

“Yes,” Katara said, catching the water and holding it still. “Alright, enough warm up. Show me your first form.” She passed the water back to Aang, who caught it and began the simple kata.

 

“How much of the Earth Kingdom does the Fire Nation control?” Aang asked next. That couldn’t be top-secret information, or too personal to talk about, he figured.

 

“Technically, Ozai claims all of it for his empire,” Katara answered. “They’ve colonized the western coast as far south as Omashu, which they call New Ozai, and most of the Penkou River valley, as well as what’s left of the northern provinces. Beyond that, their influence varies. Keep your elbows loose.”

 

Aang ignored her correction of his form, letting the water splash to the ground instead. “What’s left?” he repeated incredulously. “What do you mean? What happened to the northern provinces?”

 

Katara sighed and sat down in the grass. Aang came and sat next to her, and she took his hand. “The comet that makes firebenders more powerful, that Fire Lord Sozin took advantage of to...start the war,” she began hesitantly. _To kill all the Air Nomads_ , Aang took to be her unspoken meaning. “It comes every hundred years.”

 

Aang frowned. “So if it came right after I wound up in the ice,” he thought out loud, “then the next time would have been…”

 

“Ten years ago,” Katara finished for him. “And Ozai didn’t let it go to waste. All of the northern Earth Kingdom, even the city of Ba Sing Se…it’s gone.”

 

“You mean it was all…” Aang’s throat felt tight, and he couldn’t finish that thought.

 

“It was burned,” came Zuko’s voice. Aang looked around to see him returning with the canvas sack slung over one shoulder, now half-full. “Ozai saw to it personally.” He was scowling. Aang noticed he did that a lot.

 

Zuko set down the sack, and tried to change the subject. “I found some apples,” he said. “They’re small, and a bit sour, but edible. We should probably find a town soon and buy some rice, though.”

 

Aang yanked his hand from Katara’s grasp angrily and sprang to his feet. “What else?” he demanded. “What else has happened while I was gone? Did the Fire Nation destroy the Northern Water Tribe, too?”

 

“No, Aang,” Katara reassured him. Zuko mumbled something that sounded like _not for lack of trying_ , and Katara shot him a pointed look. “You know the worst of it, really.”

 

“I know almost nothing!” Aang cried in frustration, throwing his hands in the air. “So much has changed, and I don’t understand how any of this could happen or how I’m supposed to make any of it better, even if I am the Avatar!”

 

“You start by mastering the elements,” Zuko said. “Every Avatar has to do that.”

 

“And then what?” Aang asked. “Do I march up to Ozai and tell him, ‘I’m the Avatar and I can bend all the elements, so please stop destroying the world now’?”

 

“No,” Zuko replied darkly. “You don’t try to negotiate with Ozai. You make him stop.”

 

Aang’s eyes widened and he blinked in surprise at Zuko’s blunt answer. “How am I…” he began, but trailed off again. He knew exactly what Zuko meant.

 

“That’s a long way in the future,” Katara pointed out. “You haven’t even mastered waterbending yet. Let’s take this one step at a time.”

 

Zuko nodded in agreement. “And the next step really should be finding more food. We’re running low.”

 

Aang did his best to take Katara’s advice and focus on only the task at hand for the rest of the day, as they flew low along the coast looking for a settlement, and finally stopped at a small fishing town to restock their supplies. Katara made a disapproving noise when she saw the price for a bag of rice, but the woman managing the shop said something about shortages and assured them they wouldn’t find a better deal anywhere else. That gave him something else to think about for a while.

  
But Zuko’s words kept ringing in the back of his mind:  _ You don’t negotiate with Ozai. You make him stop.  _ He couldn’t do that. He just couldn’t. Zuko didn’t understand, and probably Katara wouldn’t either - neither of them were airbenders, even if Zuko did seem to know a fair amount about their culture.

 

Then again, there were no airbenders anymore, except for him.

 

It was that miserable thought that accompanied him as he settled himself on his bedroll that night when they had made camp outside the town. If the Air Nomads didn’t exist anymore, could he still be bound by their ways? Or did that just make it even more important for him to keep his vows? He’d sworn a sacred oath to only use violence as a last resort, in extreme situations, but could the situation be more extreme than this? Ending over a century of war was surely in keeping with both his duties as the Avatar and his commitment to peace as an airbender monk. But ending Ozai…

 

Aang shivered, though he wasn’t really cold, and rolled over, desperate to think of anything else. On the other side of the campfire, Katara was already asleep in her sleeping bag, but Zuko was still awake, sitting up and staring into the low flames. Aang watched the fire rise and fall in time with Zuko’s steady breathing - it was a soothing distraction, and it soon quieted his mind.

 

Just before he drifted off to sleep, Aang wondered vaguely if Zuko had gotten his scar on the day the comet had come.

 

He dreamed of an island, crescent-shaped, with an active volcano leaking brilliant orange streams of lava into the sea. At one end of the island stood a temple. A dragon was circling above. He felt like it was beckoning to him.

 

The temple seemed to come closer into view, and its walls faded away to reveal the uppermost chamber inside. A golden statue of Avatar Roku stood at one side, a red beam of concentrated sunlight pointed at his shoulder. On the floor in front of the statue, the solar terms of the year were marked in a circle. The statue was positioned exactly at the winter solstice.

 

The dragon was in the room with him now. It stared into his eyes. Aang backed away in fear, and the room dissolved into flames, burning white-hot.

 

He awoke with a shout, his heart pounding, but knowing exactly what he needed to do.

 

* * *

 

_Fire Nation Colonies - Ten Years Earlier_

 

As the sky turned golden orange that evening, Zuko hoisted the pack containing the few possessions he had left over his shoulder and began his descent down the steep path from the guest house to the harbor, where Azula’s ship was waiting. Iroh walked with him, in silent disapproval, but never lagging more than a step behind his nephew. Zuko felt guilty for having shouted at him earlier - he knew his uncle only ever had his best interests at heart, even if he could be misguided sometimes.

 

“Look, Uncle,” he began awkwardly when they were halfway down the path. “I’m sorry I lost my temper before. I’m sure you’re right, that Azula is up to something, and we have to be wary of her, but…” He halted his footsteps, swallowed, and looked away. “I just want to go home,” he finished in a small voice.

 

Iroh cupped one hand under Zuko’s chin and turned his face gently back towards him. “Prince Zuko,” he said with a smile, “there is no shame in that. And you know that whatever happens, I will stand by you.”

 

The ache in his chest eased a little, and Zuko found he was able to smile back. “Thank you, Uncle,” he said. Iroh patted his cheek affectionately, and the two of them continued their walk down to the ship in silence that was now companionable rather than strained.

 

The ship’s captain greeted them politely at the dock with an honor guard of four soldiers. Azula was waiting at the top of the boarding ramp. “I’m so glad you came,” she said in a perfect impression of earnestness as the captain led them to her. “Captain, set our course for home.”

 

“Yes, Princess,” the captain replied. “Shall I send word to Admiral Zhao as well?”

 

Azula’s carefully maintained pleasant expression melted into a look of ire that seemed far more natural on her, and Zuko felt a sudden weight in his stomach. “Admiral Zhao?” he repeated accusingly, his hands balling into fists. “Was anything you told me true?”

 

Azula rolled her eyes. “Really, Zuzu,” she scoffed. “You are so gullible. Lying to you is almost no fun anymore.” She gave a signal, and the soldiers attacked at once.

 

Zuko twisted out of the grasp of the soldier who tried to grab him from behind and shoved the man off the boarding ramp into the water. Leaving his uncle to fight the remaining soldiers and the captain, he charged up the ramp towards his sister, who had stepped back onto the deck of the ship and was watching the scuffle with a grin. Angrily, he shot a blast of fire at her, but she dodged it with ease, not even bothering to bend to defend herself.

 

“I guess you should know,” Azula said lazily, inspecting her fingernails, “Father attributes your treasonous actions at the north pole mostly to Uncle’s bad influence. He gave the order for Iroh to face the full traitor’s penalty, but he thought you could be set straight, with the proper chastisement.” Zuko yelled and shot two more fireballs at her, which she ducked away from just as effortlessly. “I convinced him otherwise,” she taunted.

 

Zuko pressed on with his attack. He could feel his own strikes growing clumsy as his hands shook with rage, but he didn’t care. Eventually, Azula grew tired of simply dodging and threw him backwards with a burst of blue flame. He landed hard, on his back, and recovered just in time to see his sister’s fingertips crackling with energy.

 

Iroh came seemingly out of nowhere, grabbed Azula’s hand, and redirected her lightning to impact harmlessly away from the ship. His face grim, he took advantage of Azula’s surprise to twist her arm and, with surprising strength, throw her overboard. Then he ran to Zuko’s side and helped him to his feet.

 

The two of them fled without looking back, with no plan or destination, home seeming further away than ever.

 

* * *

 

_South-Western Earth Kingdom - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet_

 

Zuko and Katara had been woken by his shouting, and Zuko had rekindled the campfire while Aang hastily explained his dream to them.

 

“I need to get to that temple on the winter solstice,” he insisted, to the skeptical looks of the two adults. “Avatar Roku must have been the person Gyatso told me about, who would help me. If I can talk to him, maybe I can figure out what I need to do to end the war.”

 

“The winter solstice is only three days from now,” Katara said. “Do we even know where this temple is?”

 

“Crescent Island,” Zuko answered. “I’ve been there before, as a child.” Katara looked worried by this.

 

“Does that mean it’s in the Fire Nation?” Aang asked tentatively. By now he’d learned that whenever the subject of Zuko’s life before the south pole came up, they were on thin ice.

 

But Zuko only nodded. “It’s the easternmost island in the Fire Nation proper, close to the southern colonies.” He considered for a moment. “It’d take three or four days for a Fire Navy ship to sail there from here.”

 

“If we’re flying northwest,” Aang said excitedly, “Appa should be able to make it there in time, if we get started now.” He leaped to his feet, ready to start packing up the campsite and get underway.

 

“Hold on,” Katara said. “I don’t think we should be charging straight into the Fire Nation.”

 

Zuko shrugged. “If we fly high enough, we can probably use cloud cover to slip past the blockade unnoticed. Crescent Island’s not strategically significant, so it won’t be heavily guarded.”

 

Katara crossed her arms. “That’s not what I mean.”

 

The two of them had some sort of unspoken exchange via staring contest while Aang looked on awkwardly. The silence was tense, and, in Aang’s opinion, a waste of time. “Alright, I get it!” he exclaimed in frustration. “Zuko has a mysterious and complicated past! You can argue about it on the way, but we have to go!”

 

Zuko got to his feet and began to roll up his sleeping bag. “He’s right, Katara. If Roku is calling him, the Avatar must answer. And where Aang goes, I go. That’s the mission.”

 

“The mission is to get him to the resistance,” Katara countered, but she began packing up her own things as well. “Not deliver him into enemy hands and get yourself killed.”

 

“Well my mission is to end the war,” Aang shot back before Zuko could answer. “And I need Roku’s help to do that.”

 

Katara relented, and they finished clearing the campsite and coaxed Appa awake and into the air. Zuko took the reins, telling Aang to try to get some more sleep in the saddle. Aang lay down and closed his eyes, but the memory of his dream and all his unanswered questions kept him awake.

 

After a while, Katara and Zuko struck up a conversation, and Aang didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but there wasn’t exactly any way for him to not hear what they said.

 

“You know what will happen if you’re caught,” Katara began.

 

“They won’t exactly give a warm welcome to a waterbender and the Avatar, either,” Zuko replied. He sounded nonchalant about the danger. Aang could easily picture Katara’s displeased frown in his mind.

 

“No,” Katara conceded. “But they’ll be extra motivated to kill you. Everyone knows what the Fire Lord wants most is your head on a golden platter.”

 

“I’m sure my sister’s used to being disappointed by now.” The words should have been a jest, but Zuko spoke them in deadly earnest. Suddenly Aang’s heart was pounding, and a thousand more questions crowded his mind. If the Fire Lord was Zuko’s sister, who was Ozai? And what did that make Zuko? At the air temple he’d promised Aang they were family, but if his actual family was their worst enemy…

 

But Katara said nothing in reply, and Zuko fell silent as well, and Aang got no more answers before he finally succumbed to exhaustion and slipped into a dreamless sleep.

 

The next three days were a tense blur of constant flying, pushing Appa to top speed. Aang kept quiet about what he had overheard, and neither Zuko nor Katara let slip any more information that would have clarified things.

 

Katara was taking a turn at the reins as the drew near to the Fire Nation border on the third day. Following Zuko’s advice, she pulled up, guiding Appa higher above the cloud layer before the blockade of ships could spot them. The disadvantage of this plan, Aang soon realized, was that if the Fire Navy ships did launch any attack at them, they’d be unable to see it coming. But as they pressed on, no fireballs or flaming projectiles broke through the clouds. Soon enough, Zuko declared it safe to fly low again, and they reached the island before sundown.

 

Leaving Appa and Momo behind, they cautiously began their trek up the winding path to the temple, which was exactly as Aang had seen it in his dream. Far from being heavily guarded, Crescent Island seemed to be deserted. They met no one on the path, and the forecourt and atrium were likewise empty. “Is this temple abandoned?” Aang asked as he stared up at the high ceiling.

 

“It shouldn’t be,” Zuko said nervously. “There’s supposed to be at least five fire sages here at all times.”

 

“There are currently four,” came a voice from a side corridor. Aang spun around and caught a glimpse of two men in red robes before Zuko and Katara stepped in front of him, blocking his view. “Please,” said the same voice, “the Avatar has nothing to fear from us.”

 

Aang craned his neck to look over Katara’s shoulders and saw the older of the two men holding out his hands in a gesture of friendship. “I am Shyu, and this is Ukon,” he said, indicating the younger man to his left. “We are loyal to our true calling as fire sages, to serve the Avatar. But the other two are loyal only to Ozai. They must not discover you are here.”

 

“Can we trust them?” Katara asked Zuko in a low voice.

 

The sound of hurried footsteps came echoing down another corridor off the opposite side of the atrium. “Do we have a choice?” Zuko replied.

 

Katara grabbed Aang by the hand, and the three of them hastily followed the two fire sages.

  



	6. The Bitter Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With some help from the Fire Sages, Aang contacts Roku, while Zuko and Katara deal with other problems.
> 
> In the past, Iroh tries to help Zuko learn some difficult lessons.

**Book I: Water**

 

**Chapter 5: The Bitter Truth (The Winter Solstice, Part 2)**

 

_ Crescent Island - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

Zuko, Aang, and Katara followed the two fire sages around the corner. Ukon glanced behind them to make sure they weren’t followed, then moved one of the red lanterns on the wall to the side to reveal the mouth of a small pipe. Placing his palm over the hole, he released a small burst of firebending. A concealed door in the wall slid open. “This way,” he said. “We can use the secret passageways to get to the sanctuary, where the Avatar can contact Roku.” They filed through the narrow opening, Ukon leading the way, followed by Shyu, then Zuko, Aang, and finally Katara.

 

The passageway led them deep underground, into caverns within the volcano itself. They gave the lava flows a wide berth, but the heat was still stifling. Aang hoped they wouldn’t be down there too long. On top of the physical discomfort, the orange incandescence of the lava cast grotesque shadows in the dark caverns, giving every nook and cranny in the rock the look of an inhuman face watching them. Aang couldn’t help but wonder if his past life was the only spirit haunting this temple...

 

“How did you know Aang was coming here to talk to Roku?” Zuko asked curiously when they had gone a ways. 

 

“About two weeks ago,” Shyu answered him, “the most amazing thing happened: the eyes of the statue of Avatar Roku in the sanctuary began to glow. The chronicles of the temple record that the last time this happened was over a hundred years ago. We knew it must mean that the Avatar had returned.”

 

“We were at the Southern Air Temple almost two weeks ago,” Katara mused. “The eyes of Roku’s statue glowed there, too.” Aang repressed a shudder, thinking of what else had happened there.

 

“I am sure there were signs at all the Avatar shrines,” Ukon replied, a hint of excitement in his voice. “Soon the whole world will know.”

 

“You said there are only four sages here,” Zuko said to Shyu. Aang was glad for the change of subject. “What happened to the fifth?”

 

“The Fire Lord grew displeased with the Great Sage last year,” Shyu responded, shaking his head sadly. “She suspected him of plotting against her, though he had done no such thing, and had him executed. We have not been allowed to fill the vacancy ever since - in her mind, I believe, we are less of a threat that way.”

 

“Azula is mad,” Ukon said bluntly from the head of their little procession. “Everyone in the Fire Nation knows it. And Ozai is no wise and beneficent ruler, either.” He nodded grimly at Zuko over his shoulder. “There are even those who would prefer to see him on the throne.”

 

His elder shushed him. “We are here to serve the Avatar,” Shyu scolded. “Not to meddle in royal affairs or question whom the spirits choose to wear the crown of Agni.”

 

“Ozai renounced the crown of Agni in favor of a title of his own innovation,” the younger sage persisted, coming to a halt and turning to face the rest of the group. “And his claim, like Azula’s, has always been in question, to those who remember the ancient laws.”  It occurred to Aang suddenly that Ukon was probably not much older than Zuko, and yet he spoke as if he were from some long-gone era, and had the wisdom of ages beyond his own.

 

“I’m not here to steal the crown from anyone,” Zuko interrupted the fire sages’ squabbling. “I just want the war to end.”

 

Ukon smiled at him patiently. “Prince Zuko,” he said. Zuko started in surprise at the title, as did Aang. “It would not be stealing, if the crown were yours by right.”

 

Shyu cuffed him on the ear. “And that would not be courting blasphemy, if the dragons had breathed on him. But since they are gone, that seems very unlikely.”

 

Ukon rubbed his ear and nodded apologetically. “You are right, of course,” he said. Shyu gave a satisfied  _ hmph _ and pushed ahead of him, telling the rest of the group to follow him. But as they obeyed, Aang heard Ukon mutter under his breath, “The Avatar was gone, and yet he has returned. Who knows if the dragons may not do the same.” He got the distinct impression that Ukon had meant those words for Zuko’s ears specifically.

 

Aang fell back a few paces to where Katara brought up the rear of the group. “Let me get this straight,” he whispered to her. “Zuko is a Fire Nation prince.” Katara sighed and nodded. “And Fire Lord Azula?” he prompted.

 

“His sister,” Katara whispered back, confirming what he’d heard the other night. 

 

“Okay,” Aang replied. “So who’s Ozai? The way you talked about him, I assumed he was the Fire Lord.”

 

“He was, at one time” Katara clarified. “He calls himself the Phoenix King now.”

 

“And he’s Zuko’s…?”

 

“His father,” Katara said softly. Then she gave Aang a stern look. “Don’t pester him about it, okay?”

 

“Yeah, okay, I get it,” Aang agreed. “If my father were a bloodthirsty tyrant, I wouldn’t like talking about it either.”

 

Somehow, that failed to lighten the mood.

 

Finally, their path sloped upwards again, and they came to a wall. Shyu and Ukon opened another hidden door, and the group stepped out of the dark passageways into a more brightly lit antechamber. The uniform red color of the walls and ceiling still made the room feel a bit oppressive, but Aang knew that was typical of important buildings in the Fire Nation. Or at least it had been, before the war.

 

In the far wall of the room there was a large door with an elaborate metalwork dragon. The beast had five heads, each with its mouth gaping open. Aang knew, somehow he knew, rather than just surmised, that the sanctuary with Roku’s statue was on the other side.

 

“The doors are closed,” Zuko noted worriedly. “Doesn’t it take five sages to open them?”

 

Ukon smiled bitterly. “So the Fire Lord believes,” he said. “But in reality, five blasts of firebending is all that is required.”

 

“But we only have three firebenders,” Aang pointed out. In response, Ukon ignited a burst of flame in the palm of each hand. “Oh, right,” Aang said sheepishly. “I guess that’s actually up to six fire blasts.”

 

“Prince Zuko,” Ukon said, gesturing with one flaming hand towards the door and bowing his head deferentially. Zuko took up a position in front of the dragon’s central head. Ukon stood to his right, and Shyu to his left. The elder fire sage ignited flames in both hands as well, but Zuko summoned his fire only to his right hand.

 

“Follow my lead,” Zuko said.

 

“Naturally,” Ukon replied dryly. Shyu glared at him, but said nothing.

 

In unison, the three firebenders unleashed jets of flame into five mouths of the dragon. With a low rumbling sound, the coils of the dragon’s body twisted apart, and the great doors swung open.

 

Aang felt Katara give his shoulders a little push. “Go on,” she said. “We’ll keep watch out here.” Zuko turned to Aang and nodded in encouragement.

 

Taking a deep breath, Aang strode past Zuko and the fire sages, into the sanctuary. The doors swung shut behind him, seemingly of their own accord, plunging the room into near-darkness. The only light that remained was the concentrated red beam, just as he had seen in his dream, which now struck the golden statue of Avatar Roku almost exactly in the middle of his chest.

 

* * *

 

_ Northern Earth Kingdom - Ten Years Earlier _

 

Iroh and Zuko had wandered the Earth Kingdom for nearly two months, their hair shorn and their clothing no more than brown rags. They looked for odd jobs whenever they came to a town, but as word began to spread even beyond the colonies about the Fire Lord’s disgraced brother and son, it became harder and harder to find places where they were not met with suspicion. Zuko in particular had a very distinctive appearance, and if anyone had actually seen his wanted poster, they would recognize him instantly. Increasingly, they kept to woods and wilderness, relying on hunting and foraging - neither of which Zuko had any experience with, but he soon learned the basics out of necessity. It helped that his uncle, who mysteriously seemed to know all things, was a good teacher.

 

When they were confident no one was around, Iroh continued his firebending instruction as well. Zuko knew he was making progress, but it was frustratingly slow. He wished he had more opportunities to practice, without risking getting caught. Their situation would be marginally better if he could just feel like he was accomplishing  _ something _ in all their aimless wandering.

 

And if Azula did manage to find them, he wanted to at least have a fighting chance.

 

It was with that in mind that he decided, as they reached the sparsely inhabited foothills of the northern mountains, to press his uncle to teach him more advanced firebending forms. When Iroh had declared their new campsite a suitable location for firebending practice, Zuko spoke up.

 

“Isn’t it time I learned to bend lightning?” he asked.

 

Iroh considered for a moment. “Zuko,” he said. Not even his uncle addressed him by the title of prince now. “Generating lighting is a very advanced technique that requires extreme discipline.”

 

Zuko frowned. “You can just say it if you don’t think I’m good enough.”

 

“I do not think that,” Iroh insisted. “I’m just warning you, it will be difficult to learn. You will have to work hard, and be patient with yourself. Do not expect immediate success.”

 

Zuko squared his shoulders, his determination only heightened by his uncle’s warning. Nothing in his life had ever come easily to him, but he’d never let that stop him from trying before, and he wasn’t about to start now. “I’m not afraid of failure,” he said.

 

Iroh smiled. “Then you have already learned the most important lesson of all. He who cannot stomach the bitterness of failure will never taste the sweetness of success.”

 

That evening, after a meager supper, Iroh assigned him extra meditation. To master lightning would require perfect calm, a total freedom from emotion, he explained. They had no candles, but Zuko sat by their small campfire and concentrated on manipulating the flames with his breath. At first the fire would flare and spark with each pang of anger or homesickness that he felt, but soon it fell into a steady rhythm as he gained control over himself.

 

At last, Iroh declared him ready to begin. He explained how to separate the positive and negative energies around him, and to release the burst of energy caused by the resulting imbalance. Then he demonstrated the technique, shooting a bolt of lightning into the clear sky overhead.

 

Zuko paid close attention to his uncle’s instructions, following his form carefully. Iroh made him run through just the physical movements several times, before he was satisfied. Yet his first attempt at actually creating lightning produced nothing more than an explosion that knocked him off his feet.

 

Undeterred, Zuko got up, and tried again. The result was the same. On the third try, the explosion was larger.

 

“Do not try to channel your anger into lightning,” Iroh warned, helping him to his feet. “It will not work that way. Lightning is the cold fire - there is no emotion in it.”

 

After several more attempts, each ending in failure, Zuko’s arms were beginning to shake from the exertion. He pushed himself up again, and forced his sore limbs into the opening stance nonetheless. Iroh laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Perhaps that is enough for today,” he suggested. “You are tired, and it has made you agitated.”

 

Zuko reluctantly agreed, and accepted the cup of tea his uncle offered. Somehow, even when they were running dangerously short on food, they had a seemingly endless supply of tea. It was one of Uncle’s many mysteries.

 

But even after a full night’s sleep and another hour of calming meditation at dawn, he had no more success at creating lightning the next morning. Iroh seemed to have no more advice to offer him, for he simply watched in silence as his nephew was knocked down by explosion after explosion, and stubbornly hauled himself upright again each time. At last, after a blast that didn’t even seem as powerful as any of the previous ones, Zuko growled in frustration and stayed down.

 

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised it keeps blowing up in my face,” he complained as Iroh came and sat next to him on the ground. “Everything always does.”

 

“Hmm,” Iroh replied, “I had a feeling this might happen. You can not achieve the calm you need, because you are not at peace with yourself. The conflict between your sense of honor and your sense of shame has left you unbalanced.”

 

Zuko turned his head and looked at his uncle in confusion. “What does that mean?”

 

Iroh pursed his lips, then folded his hands and spun one thumb around the other for a moment before he spoke again. “We have never really talked about what happened at the north pole.”

 

“What is there to talk about?” Zuko snapped irritably, not liking the apparent change of subject. “Zhao had to be stopped. We agreed.” He had replayed the scenario enough times in his mind to be certain there was nothing left for him to learn by rehashing things again now.

 

Iroh sighed. “And yet your father did not see it that way.”

 

Zuko sat up. “I’m sure if I could just explain it to him myself…”

 

“We both know you are unlikely to get the chance,” Iroh cut him off. His voice was gentle, but his eyes were narrowed, challenging.

 

Zuko looked away from his uncle. His face felt hot.

 

“Do you regret your decision?” Iroh asked softly.

 

Zuko thought of the steely determination with which the Water Tribe princess had laid down her life to save her people. To save the world. “No,” he replied in a low voice. “It’s not my decision I regret.”

 

“You still believe that what you did was right?” Iroh pressed further.

 

Zuko nodded once, with a jerking motion. “I know it was.”

 

“And yet it has cost you what little status and comfort you had retained in your exile,” Iroh pointed out. “You know in your heart that you made the honorable choice, but in doing so you have shamed yourself in the eyes of your father, likely beyond redemption.” Zuko flinched. It was probably the harshest thing his uncle had ever said to him. “What does that tell you?”

 

Zuko’s heart and soul rebelled against the answer he had known ever since their flight from Kozei. He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes, which stung with the tears he was desperately fighting back. “Please don’t make me say it,” he begged pitifully.

 

Iroh sighed, but relented, pulling Zuko to his side with one arm. Zuko leaned against the bulky expanse of his uncle like a child, and suddenly it seemed alright to let the tears come. There was no one but Uncle to see, or judge.

 

Iroh held him in silence for a long time. “I should not have pushed you, before you were ready,” he felt as much as heard his uncle say at last. Zuko didn’t know if he was talking about his father, or the lightning, or both, but he didn’t care in that moment. He didn’t want to think about either anymore.

 

* * *

 

_ Crescent Island - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

Zuko had started forward when the sanctuary doors had closed, but Shyu put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. “Whatever transpires in there,” the elder sage said, “it is for the Avatar alone. All we can do is wait until he emerges.”

 

Zuko looked to Katara. She could tell he was as uneasy about this as she was, if not more. For all his cavalier attitude about this detour into the Fire Nation in the last few days, she knew just being here had him on edge. Ukon’s borderline obsequious behavior certainly wasn’t helping, either. Zuko wanted no recognition for being royalty, and never trusted flattering words.

 

But Katara had to admit that Shyu was probably right. She gave Zuko a shrug. “We told him we’d keep watch. So that’s what we’ll do.”

 

They took up positions, Zuko by the main entrance to the antechamber, Shyu by the hidden door they had come through, and Katara and Ukon remaining by the sanctuary doors. Minutes passed in tense silence. Katara opened and closed the cap on one of her waterskins nervously.

 

“Forgive my asking,” Ukon said quietly after a moment, “but you are obviously a waterbender, and you came here with Prince Zuko...” He cleared his throat, and went on. “We have heard so many things over the years, about our wayward prince, most of it surely nonsense, but a persistent rumor says that he is married to a waterbender.”

 

Katara studied Ukon carefully. He looked a bit uncomfortable - she was surprised stories about her had made it all the way back to the Fire Nation, and perhaps Ukon was hoping the rumors of his prince’s foreign bride were false. If there really were people in the Fire Nation who wanted to put her husband on the throne, that might change their minds. “I am Zuko’s wife,” she confirmed. “My name is Katara.”

 

To her surprise, Ukon looked relieved rather than disappointed. “Fascinating,” he whispered. “Did you know, Princess Katara, that before the war, there used to be a temple of the moon spirit in the Fire Nation’s capital?” He gave her a knowing smile. “The moon reflects the sun, after all.”

 

Katara shook her head, understanding the young fire sage less and less by the minute. “I’m not a princess,” she corrected him. “And Zuko doesn’t want to be a prince. He’s put that part of his life behind him, so it would be best for everyone if you left him alone.”

 

Ukon raised his hands apologetically. “I will say no more to him, as my lady commands,” he said with a bow of his head towards her. Katara rather felt he had largely missed her point. “But royal blood can not be denied. Your husband  _ is _ of royal blood, as will be your children.”

 

Katara gave an involuntary start at his words, which Ukon unfortunately noticed. “I see,” he said, smiling again. “So that rumor is true as well.”

 

Katara was ready to tell him that whatever schemes or ambitions he might have for the royal dynasty, he could damn well leave her son out of them. But she never got the chance. The hidden door from the secret passageways slid open again, and the other two fire sages burst into the room. 

 

Before she could do or say anything, Ukon had both her arms pinned against her back. “You’re just in time!” he shouted to the newcomers, as Zuko shouted and ran towards them. “Stop the traitor!”

 

Katara’s heart pounded. The two sages - and Shyu - attacked Zuko at once. It was all he could do to hold them off. Katara struggled, but could not break free of Ukon’s grip. Her waterskins remained closed tight.

 

“Do not be afraid,” Ukon whispered in her ear, dragging her away from the fight. “We must only stall, until the Avatar emerges from the sanctuary.” As soon as they were behind a pillar, out of sight of the other fire sages, he let her go. “The waterbender has escaped!” he shouted, winking at her.

 

Katara hit him with a water whip - not full force, but none too gently either - and ran to help Zuko. They fought back-to-back, while Katara kept one eye on the sanctuary doors. They remained stubbornly shut. Eventually, Zuko managed to throw one of the enemy sages against a pillar, knocking him out cold, and she similarly subdued the other.

 

“Let’s hope the Avatar comes out before they wake up,” Shyu said as he dropped all pretense of fighting them.

 

Ukon had recovered himself, and joined them, rubbing his stomach where Katara’s water whip had hit him. “That was a very convincing performance,” he said wryly.

 

“So was yours,” Katara replied, unapologetic. She reached for Zuko’s hand, and he grasped hers automatically, giving it a reassuring squeeze. It was an old habit, after any fight. It had been so long since it had been necessary.

 

“Well, isn’t that touching,” came a sinister voice from the main entrance behind them. They spun around in unison to see the man they had known they would have to confront eventually.

 

Katara had seen Zhao personally in battle only once, and fleetingly, several years ago. She doubted he remembered her. But she had not forgotten the proud, cruel face of the man Zuko spoke of with such disdain.

 

There was only one difference in his appearance now, but it was striking. The right side of Zhao’s face was covered with thin, closely spaced scars. One set ran down his forehead, another angled over his cheek, and a third ran at the opposite angle over his eye. They weren’t burn marks; it looked more like someone had attacked him with claws, or a set of blades. When he spoke, all trace of smugness was gone from his voice, replaced by hardened bitterness.

 

“Zuko the Traitor,” he spat. “You found the Avatar - only ten years too late. The Phoenix King and the Fire Lord will both be pleased when I bring them your heads.”

 

Katara’s hand was already on her waterskin, but Zuko reached out and stayed her. “He’s alone,” he said suspiciously. “Why would he come alone?” Katara scanned the room and the corridor beyond the main entrance warily, and realized Zuko was right. There was no sign of soldiers, or any sort of backup. Zhao had brought no one, that they could see.

 

“The Fire Lord has banished him,” Shyu declared. He pointed accusingly at Zhao. “You are disobeying her express orders by your mere presence here.”

 

“Do not lecture me on obedience to the Fire Lord,” Zhao sneered at him. “Not when you are aiding her enemies at this very moment.”

 

Zuko’s grip on Katara’s wrist relaxed. “You are outnumbered, Zhao,” he warned. “We will not let you touch the Avatar.”

 

“But you see,” Zhao replied, “unless I capture the Avatar, the Fire Lord will not lift my banishment. I’m sure you understand.”

 

Katara had barely a second to register Azula’s sick sense of irony before Zhao attacked with wild fury. And then behind her, she heard the sanctuary doors open at last.

 

* * *

 

_ Northern Earth Kingdom - Ten Years Earlier _

 

The day after his failure with the lightning, Zuko awoke with a sort of hollow feeling in his chest instead of the usual ache. He wasn’t sure if this was an improvement or not. It didn’t really seem better or worse, just different. 

 

With effort, he pushed himself up into a sitting position, and surveyed his surroundings. Uncle seemed to have been awake long before him - a steaming pot of tea and a bowl of rice sat by the campfire, waiting for him, as Iroh finished his own breakfast. The sky was gray and overcast, though the day was still warm - Zuko decided the hidden sun must have been the reason he had slept later than usual.

 

“I have an idea,” Iroh told him when he had finished eating. “I want to teach you a different firebending technique. Even Azula does not know this one, because I created it myself.”

 

Zuko’s spirits lifted somewhat at that, and he managed a small smile, mostly for his uncle’s sake. “Alright,” he said, setting down his empty bowl. “Show me.”

 

With his finger, Iroh traced the elemental symbol for fire in the dirt, followed by the symbol for air, then water, and finally earth. “Each of the elements has its own character,” he said as he drew the figures. “Fire, as you know, is powerful, and passionate. Air is the element of freedom, and detachment from worldly things. Water is adaptable, always in motion - yet it follows a certain pattern, like the tides. And earth is the element of substance and stability.”

 

Zuko looked at his uncle skeptically. “What does this have to do with firebending?” he asked.

 

Iroh smiled. “To truly understand any one element, you must know how it relates to the others. No element stands on its own.” He traced intersecting lines between the symbols he had drawn, isolating them from each other. “When the elements are divided, each becomes less. But when we draw wisdom from all four,” here he traced a circle around his rough diagram, uniting the four quadrants, “we become stronger, more complete.”

 

“We’re talking about Avatar stuff again,” Zuko observed dryly.

 

“Indeed,” Iroh replied. “It is the combination of all four elements, fully realized, in one person that makes the Avatar so powerful. But to a lesser extent, it can make us more powerful as well.” He dusted off his hands, and smiled. “You see, this firebending technique I am going to teach you, I developed by studying waterbending forms.”

 

Zuko’s good eye widened. “You’re going to teach me to firebend like a waterbender?”

 

“I’m going to teach you to bend lightning like a waterbender,” Iroh replied with a nod.

 

“But fire and water are opposite elements,” Zuko protested. “They’re totally different. How is that supposed to work?”

 

“Being opposites is not the same as being incompatible,” Iroh explained. “In fact, it is often the case that opposite principles work in harmony with each other - the sun and the moon, the spirit and the body, a man and a woman…”

 

“Alright, I get the idea,” Zuko cut his uncle off before he could elaborate any further, stubbornly ignoring the flush in his cheeks at the implications of the last example. “How does it work with bending?”

 

His uncle chuckled at his embarrassment, but mercifully returned to the point at hand. “As firebenders, we are used to generating our element, and commanding it. But waterbenders know how to redirect the natural flow of energy in their element. If we apply this principle to firebending, many new possibilities arise.”

 

“That’s how you were able to redirect Azula’s lightning,” Zuko said as Iroh got to his feet. “You used a waterbending form.”

 

“Something like a waterbending form,” Iroh corrected him, extending his right arm with the first two fingers pointed. “When you intercept the lightning like this, its natural path will be to follow your body’s own energy, through your arm to your shoulder,” he explained, tracing the path with his other hand.. “So far, that is what we let it do. But when it reaches the shoulder, you must direct it down, to the stomach.” He brought his hand down to his own midsection, and patted it with a laugh. “In my case, that’s quite a large target,” he joked.

 

Zuko didn’t react to his uncle’s joke. He figured it was more polite than rolling his eyes. Iroh sighed, and continued his lesson.

 

“From the stomach, you guide the energy up to your other shoulder, down the other arm, and release it,” he concluded. “The crucial part is the detour through the stomach. You must never let the lightning pass through your heart - the damage would be fatal.”

 

Zuko nodded in understanding. He got to his feet, and mimicked the form Iroh had demonstrated - from the arm to the shoulder, down to the stomach, up to the other shoulder, and out through the other arm.

 

“Good,” Iroh praised him when they had gone through the form a few times. “Try to feel the flow of your body’s energy - your chi - as you do the physical motions. The movement of the chi creates the path that the lightning will follow.”

 

Zuko closed his eyes and concentrated as he drew his right hand down the length of his left arm. “I think I feel...something…” he said.

 

“Then let us keep practicing, until you are certain,” his uncle replied encouragingly.

 

They spent the rest of the morning working on the form. Zuko took a break in the afternoon to try some hunting - they were low on food, after all. He managed to catch only a small squirrel, but it was better than nothing. He returned to their camp to find that Iroh had managed to dig up some wild root vegetables, which made a halfway decent stew together with the squirrel meat.

 

After their meal, Zuko insisted they practice some more. With each repetition of the form, he grew more attuned to the flow of energy in his body. It really did feel like a stream of water - that was the only way he could describe it. When he said this out loud, Iroh smiled proudly.

 

“Excellent work, Zuko,” his uncle said.

 

“Alright,” Zuko said excitedly. He felt almost light-hearted with the thought that something was actually going well for him for a change. “I’m ready to try it.”

 

Iroh blinked at him in confusion. “Try what?”

 

“Redirecting actual lightning, obviously,” Zuko said.

 

Iroh’s eyes widened in shock. “Are you crazy?” he exclaimed. “Do you know how dangerous real lightning is?”

 

Zuko frowned. That light-hearted feeling was gone. “The whole point of learning this is to protect myself from danger,” he argued. “How do you expect me to use this technique against Azula, if you won’t even let me try it now?”

 

Iroh shook his head sadly. “I am not going to shoot lightning at you, Zuko,” he said. “It is my sincere hope that you will never have to use this technique at all. If you are lucky, you will never see your sister again.”

 

Zuko’s hands shook with anger. “Do you expect us to live like outcasts in the Earth Kingdom forever?” he shouted.

 

“No,” Iroh replied calmly. “Do you expect to storm the Fire Nation single-handedly and take back your throne?”

 

Zuko had no answer for that. He’d tried very hard not to think too much about what he expected at this point, for the question brought him uncomfortably close to the dangerous line he’d almost crossed yesterday. With a frustrated growl, he turned away from his uncle, and refocused on the problem at hand.

 

“If you won’t help me,” Zuko said in a low voice, looking up at the nearest mountain peak, and the clouds which were growing darker by the minute, “I’ll find my own lightning.”

 

If Iroh said anything to try to change his mind, Zuko didn’t hear.

 

His ascent to the top of the mountain was not easy, but Zuko was determined. Even when the first large drops of rain began to pelt his face and made his handholds and footholds perilously slick, he kept going until he reached the summit.

 

Furiously, he stared up into the storm clouds above him. Lightning struck on some other peak in the far distance, then a good three miles to his right, and then somewhere behind him. The tempest raged, and he met it head on, eyes unblinking, muscles taut, ready for the worst it could do. But not a single bolt came anywhere near him.

 

“Come on!” he yelled into the violent sky. “Strike me! Go ahead! You’ve never held back before!”

 

But like Azula refusing to fight him properly, the storm was indifferent to his rage. He fell to his knees, nearly sobbing in anger, and begged with an inarticulate howl of grief for just one chance to prove himself. And yet the heavens were as deaf to his pleas as his father.

 

* * *

 

_ Crescent Island - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

In the semi-darkness of the sanctuary chamber, Aang looked at the statue of Avatar Roku, and waited. Nothing happened.

 

“Um, Avatar Roku?” he called out hesitantly. “I’m here. Did you...have something to tell me?”

 

Silence.

 

Aang sighed. At the air temple, it had felt like Roku’s statue was almost alive. It was like a voice had been whispering to him, just a little too faint for him to make out the words. He had known the previous Avatar’s name, with no explanation, just like he’d known he would find him again here. Only now, Roku seemed to be mute.

 

He sat cross-legged before the statue, and tried meditating. It was hard to focus - he knew he didn’t have all the time in the world, that Zuko and Katara were waiting for him outside, and that the other fire sages, the not-so-friendly ones, could find them at any moment.

 

He gave up and opened his eyes just in time to see the red beam of light slide the final fraction of an inch into the exact center of the statue’s chest. The light suddenly grew, spreading over Roku’s body and up to his face. The statue’s eyes shone with their own red glow, and suddenly Aang was no longer in the temple at all.

 

He was standing on a mountain peak, beneath a cloudy sky. Roku stood before him - not a statue, but in the flesh. Or, more accurately, Aang figured, in the spirit.

 

“Hello, Aang,” the older Avatar said. “It is good to see you at last.”

 

“It’s good to see you, too,” Aang replied with a polite bow. “I have so many questions…”

 

“I can only give you a few answers,” Roku cautioned him. “There are many things you will have to learn for yourself.”

 

“I don’t understand how this war started,” Aang said desperately. “And I don’t know how I’m supposed to make it stop. Even if I master all the elements, I can’t fight the whole Fire Nation, or undo all the damage they’ve done.”

 

“This war began,” Roku replied sadly, “as most wars do, because of the greed and ambition of powerful men. The world relies on the Avatar to keep such men in their place, and thus maintain balance. That is the only way the war will end.”

 

Aang frowned. Roku made it sound much wiser and more spiritual, but essentially he was saying the same thing Zuko had. He met Roku’s eyes defiantly. “And by putting Ozai in his place,” he said, “you mean I have to kill him.”

 

The clouds overhead grew dark, threatening a storm. Roku’s face grew stern. “Not necessarily,” he said. His eyes began to glow, and a powerful wind whipped around them. Kyoshi and Kuruk appeared behind each of Roku’s shoulders. Beyond them Aang could see Yangchen and all the Avatars that had preceded her, back and back into the distance until they were no more than faint outlines. When Roku spoke again, it was with hundreds of voices, not just his own.

 

“When you call on all of your previous lives,” the Avatar said, “you are at your most powerful. In this state, you can do incredible things. You can bend the elements in untold ways. You can even bend the very life-force within a person. Through you, the spirits will give, and the spirits will take away.”

 

“So if I can learn how to do that,” Aang shouted over the wind, “I can stop Ozai without killing him?”

 

“His crown, his firebending, his life - you can take as much or as little as you see fit,” the Avatar replied solemnly. “What you bind will be bound, what you loose will be loosened.”

 

The wind died down, the glow disappeared from Roku’s eyes, and he spoke again with his voice alone. “But beware: in the Avatar state, you are also at your most vulnerable. If you are killed while in this state, the Avatar spirit dies with you, and the cycle will be broken.” One by one, the previous Avatars disappeared, until Aang and Roku were alone again.

 

Aang’s eyes widened. “That seems like an awful risk,” he said. “Wouldn’t it be better to never use the Avatar state at all?”

 

“It is your decision,” Roku said evenly. “But if you will not, then killing Ozai will be a necessity.”

 

Aang shook his head determinedly. “I won’t do that.”

 

“Then you must master the Avatar state, or you will not end the war,” Roku stated. The clouds overhead and the mountain beneath their feet both disappeared, leaving the two of them suspended in darkness. “Our time is almost up,” Roku warned.

 

“But how do I-”

 

“I can give you no more answers now,” the older Avatar cut him off. “Outside this sanctuary, your friends are waiting for you - let us help them.”

 

Aang met Roku’s eyes again, and nodded. Immediately, he felt that surge of power, like he had at the air temple. His body no longer felt entirely his own - but he could feel Roku’s presence, guiding him this time. He was in the temple sanctuary again. He turned around, and the doors flew open at his desire.

 

In the antechamber, a firebender was attacking Zuko and Katara. The Avatar took one step forward, and the stones beneath the man’s feet rose up and threw him backwards. He lifted one hand, and a blast of white-hot fire sent him running. It seemed the would-be moon-slayer had learned his lesson at last, about going up against the spirits.

 

Shyu and Ukon prostrated themselves before him, their faces hidden. Zuko and Katara were staring at him in awe. The Avatar knew it was not Aang, but Roku that they saw. He strode towards them, and Zuko sank to one knee, pressing his fist to the floor and bowing his head in a gesture of reverent submission. Aang thought that was the most frightening thing he had seen since their visit to the air temple.

 

He came back to himself, and collapsed. Zuko caught him, with a firm grip on his shoulders. They were both kneeling now.

 

“Aang?” Zuko asked anxiously. “Are you alright?”

 

Aang nodded weakly. “I spoke to Roku,” he said in a small voice. It was all he could manage.

 

Zuko helped him to his feet, and Katara rushed to hug him. She was good at hugs, Aang thought vaguely, probably because she was a mom. He’d always heard moms were good at that, though he’d never known from experience. She never squeezed too tight or pushed him away before he was ready to let go.

 

He was still holding on to her, his eyes closed and his face pressed to her shoulder, when Shyu said, “If you have accomplished what you came here for, I think you should leave, quickly.”

 

Katara shifted slightly, but didn’t let go of Aang. “The other sages should wake up soon,” she said. Aang hadn’t even noticed the other sages in the room. Why were they sleeping?

 

“We will tell them you overpowered us, and escaped with the Avatar.” That was Ukon’s voice.

 

Zuko spoke next. “If Zhao tells anyone that you helped us…”

 

“Then we will face the Fire Lord’s wrath, knowing we have done what was right,” Shyu said.

 

Aang turned his head and opened his eyes, just in time to see Zuko extend a hand in gratitude towards the elder fire sage. Shyu grasped his forearm, just below the elbow, and Zuko did the same. Then he offered his hand to Ukon. The younger sage hesitated, glanced in Katara’s direction, and then accepted the gesture as Shyu had.

 

They left the temple in silence, made their way back to Appa, and hastily left Crescent Island behind. Aang was quiet and pensive as they flew above the clouds again. Roku had given him much to think about.

 

They landed that evening along a wooded coastline - in the Fire Nation colonies, Zuko pointed out, but in a remote enough area that they should be able to remain undetected. They made camp for the night. Katara asked Aang if he wanted to talk about what Roku had said to him, but he shrugged her off, and she didn’t press. If she and Zuko could have their mysteries, he could have his. It was only fair.

 

Late that night, after Zuko and Katara were both asleep, Aang still lay awake. He thought of all that power that had coursed through him - he had been so much more aware of what was happening this time, and it terrified him. He didn’t want to be some wrathful force of nature that made good men lower themselves before him in deference. He didn’t want to be a capricious spirit who gave and took away.

 

He didn’t want to take Ozai’s life, either.

 

Aang rolled onto his back and looked up at the sky. It was a perfectly clear night; all the stars were visible. But the beauty of the heavens was no comfort to him. Momo scampered over and curled up on his chest. Aang stroked his soft fur with one hand. “I guess those are my choices,” he said to the lemur. “Master the Avatar state, or kill a man.”

 

Momo whined softly. Aang closed his eyes and hugged the lemur closer. “It’s okay, Momo,” he whispered, petting the lemur’s ears. “We’ll figure something out. Zuko and Katara will take care of us. It’ll be okay.” Whether he had succeeded in reassuring himself, or he was simply too tired to stay awake and worry any more, he finally drifted off to sleep.


	7. The Waterbending Master

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko, Katara, and Aang deal with a surprise attack.
> 
> In the past, Katara demands that Amaruk teach her how to fight.

**Book I: Water**

 

**Chapter 6: The Waterbending Master**

 

_ Southern Earth Kingdom - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

They flew south from the Fire Nation colonies for two days straight before they landed again in relatively safer Earth Kingdom territory so that Appa could rest. They had headed further inland, hoping Zhao would have a harder time tracking them that way. So far, they’d seen no sign that he had any war balloons at his disposal, but neither Zuko nor Katara could help scanning the skies anxiously every now and then. And of course, there were always other dangers to watch out for.

 

The next morning began with another waterbending lesson, which Zuko allowed himself to sit and watch. Momo came and curled up in his lap as he did. Katara had begun working on the second form with Aang. They were moving beyond mere direction and control of the water now, and on to more offensive moves that could actually be used in a fight.

 

Katara would demonstrate what she wanted Aang to do, her movements graceful and precise. Zuko knew that Amaruk had demanded perfection from Katara during her own training, and she had learned to make perfection seem effortless. Then Aang would copy her, no less powerful in how he wielded the water, but with a flashy, almost lackadaisical attitude. The boy liked to improvise, and it was quietly driving Katara crazy.

 

“You’re pulling your punches,” she chided him after another run through the kata. “If you’re not sure of your strikes, the water won’t follow through with full strength.”

 

“Uh huh,” Aang replied, barely acknowledging her correction. “But watch this!” He spun his hands over his head and bended a whirling pinwheel of water. It was beautiful, but probably useless in combat.

 

Katara swiped one arm sharply to the side with her hand extended flat, and the water above Aang’s head froze into several ice daggers, which planted themselves in the grass next to them - far enough from Zuko that he wasn’t worried, but still close enough to make Momo start in surprise and run over to Appa.

 

“Stop it,” Katara said forcefully. “This isn’t a game!”

 

Aang blinked in surprise at her tone. “I know it’s not,” he said defensively. “I just like to try out new tricks sometimes - to see if I can do it.” He shrugged, then said in a more wistful voice, “That’s how I learned airbending.”

 

“You learned airbending during peacetime,” Katara shot back. “I know it’s hard for you to accept, but there is a war going on now, and someday you are going to need to know how to fight.”

 

“We all know that,” Zuko said, getting to his feet and coming to stand next to Aang. “He’s just having some fun. At least he’s not throwing himself at hungry sea monsters this time.”

 

But his attempt at levity didn’t go over like he’d hoped. Katara only looked at him sternly. “An unwilling warrior is no good to anyone,” she said. Then she stalked over to where their packs lay by the remains of the previous night’s campfire, muttering something about lunch. Well, at least her ire was only driving her to cooking, so far.

 

Aang gave Zuko a mournful look. “I’m not a warrior,” he said. “I’ve never been a warrior.”

 

“No one expects that from you right now,” Zuko replied, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “But as the Avatar, you will have to end the war someday. Katara is just trying to prepare you for when that day comes.”

 

Aang looked away, frowning. “What if…”

 

But whatever he had been about to say, he didn’t get a chance to finish. Zuko registered the faint whistling sound just in time to push Aang out of the way of the arrow, which struck the ground where his foot had been a moment ago.

 

“Go!” Zuko shouted, pushing Aang towards Appa and casting a shield of flame to burn the subsequent wave of arrows out of the air. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Katara already throwing their packs onto Appa’s saddle, rousing the bison and getting him ready to take off again as quickly as she could. Aang had leaped onto Appa’s head and had the reins in his hands.

 

Zuko scanned the woods around them, looking for any sign of the hostile archers, as he backed up towards the bison, but he could see nothing. Another wave of arrows came from his right. He threw up a wall of flames to block them, just as a second barrage came from the opposite side. His defense was just a second too slow - a single arrow made it past his fire and struck his right arm. While he was still dazed with pain, he heard the sound of more arrows being shot - they whizzed past him, but carried some sort of net that tangled around his legs. He fell to the ground.

 

Katara shouted his name. He looked back at her - she was poised to leap off of Appa’s saddle and come to his aide. “No!” he shouted back. “Get Aang out of here! Go!”

 

But something hard impacted the side of his head, and his vision went black before he saw whether or not she did.

 

* * *

 

_ South Pole - Nine Years Earlier _

 

One year after the northern delegation arrived at the south pole, the tribe celebrated their first betrothal since Natika had agreed to marry Katara’s maternal uncle Takeel. That had been just before Katara’s father had gone away with the war party, and Takeel had reluctantly left with them. The marriage rites had never been celebrated. Now, Aunt Tira had agreed to marry Atial, one of the handsome northern warriors, to the surprise of no one. They were both twenty-two years old.

 

That left twenty-one year old Siaja as the oldest unattached girl, followed by Nivi, who was sixteen now and just old enough to be betrothed. And then there was Katara herself - she would reach her majority in the coming winter. Her aunts had already started making insinuations about her and Kohnna, though Gran Gran would tell them off if she caught them.

 

Katara had a good idea why they teased her. Everyone knew she would watch Kohnna train with his father any time she got the chance. What they didn’t know was that she wasn’t there because she was pining after him - she was studying him, and Amaruk. And on quiet nights when everyone else was fast asleep, sometimes she would sneak outside the village and try out the waterbending moves she saw them use. She had a pretty good grasp of the water whip now. But she didn’t exactly know how to explain that to her aunts.

 

So she endured the occasional teasing patiently, and waited for the right moment to push the issue again. She found her next opportunity when she was working on embroidering Tira’s bridal blanket with Amaruk’s wife, Selen, and their daughter, Minak. Selen was called away to settle some dispute between the children playing outside, leaving Katara and Minak alone.

 

“Do you ever wish you could learn to fight like Sokka and the others?” Katara asked casually. Minak wasn’t a waterbender, but nonbenders were still allowed to fight - as long as they were boys. Everyone had been unsettled since the annual visit from the grain merchants had brought news of what had happened to the Earth Kingdom at the end of the summer. With her father’s war party still unaccounted for, the need for warriors to protect their village seemed greater than ever, but the girls were still excluded.

 

Minak shrugged as she worked her needle. “Not really,” she said. “I don’t think I’d be much good at it.” She gave Katara a knowing look - her eyes were more blue than green, but just as sharp as her father’s. “If you want my dad to teach you, you have to ask him, not me.”

 

“Yeah, I’m sure he’d jump at the opportunity to teach a girl.” Katara replied sarcastically.

 

“My mom doesn’t really want me to tell you this,” said Minak with a cautious glance at the door, leaning closer, “but he had a big argument with Kida about it, right before we set sail to come here.”

 

“Really?” Katara asked. She’d long since picked up on the tension between the two senior waterbenders, and had been secretly dying to know the cause for it.

 

“Oh yeah,” Minak said, setting down her needle. “If Princess Yue had known how to fight with even a knife,” she quoted passionately, in what Katara assumed was an imitation of Kida, “she might have made the difference in stopping Zhao  _ before _ he got to the moon spirit!” She pounded her fist into her palm for emphasis.

 

“Or she might have been killed in the fight,” Minak went on in a more measured tone, surely mimicking her father, “and the moon spirit would have been lost forever.”

 

“I can’t believe Princess Yue’s fate was just to die like that,” Katara said, shaking her head. “It seems so unfair, that the only way she could do anything was by giving up her own life.”

 

“Maybe,” Minak said with a shrug. “But it was a noble sacrifice. She saved us all, even without fighting.” She looked at Katara pointedly. “She’s the reason you’re still able to waterbend at all.”

 

Katara thought for a moment, then sat up straighter, her resolve greater than ever. “Then I think I owe it to her to make sure I learn to waterbend properly,” she declared.

 

Selen returned then, ending the discussion. But Katara’s mind was made up. She was done sneaking around trying to learn what Kohnna could do in broad daylight. When she made her way to the training field where Amaruk was instructing his son that afternoon, she didn’t sit down at a safe distance to watch, but marched right up to them and hit Amaruk square in the chest with a water whip. It wasn’t very powerful, and only made him stumble back two steps, but it got her point across.

 

“Maybe women don’t fight in the north, but you’re in the south now,” Katara declared. She could feel Kohnna staring at her in amazement, which only fueled her determination. “I know our women did fight in the past, and it’s my right to follow in their footsteps. I demand to be trained as a warrior.”

 

To her surprise, Amaruk looked immensely pleased. “It’s about time,” he said. “I had wondered if you were ever going to ask.”

 

Katara felt her mouth drop open in surprise. Kohnna gave a snort of laughter, and she glared at him. “But Minak said...I thought you had argued with Kida…” she sputtered inarticulately in her confusion.

 

Amaruk raised an eyebrow. “I did,” he confirmed. “I knew your tribe was not in any position to let our outdated traditions limit your defences. But Kida was adamant that I not train any female warriors unless they asked. She was worried I had only agreed to lead the delegation so I could push my agenda.”

 

“Your agenda?” Katara echoed in disbelief.

 

“Her words, not mine,” Amaruk said with a shrug. “But now that you’ve  _ demanded _ to be trained,” he continued, smiling in that satisfied way that Katara had always hated, “you’ve certainly met her conditions.”

 

“I told you she would, Dad,” Kohnna said smugly. He was smiling, too, and looked very much like his father when he did. Apparently Amaruk and his son and all of the northerners had been discussing her behind her back like a prize in their stupid grudge match over their own backwards customs while she had struggled to teach herself the most basic fighting forms in the middle of the night, as if it were some shameful secret...

 

“Indeed you did,” Amaruk replied to his son. “So now, you can demonstrate for her how to do the water whip properly.”

 

Thus began her first official lesson. She went home that evening tired, capable of a flawless water whip, and furious. Somehow, even in giving her exactly what she wanted, Amaruk had managed to make it feel like he’d beaten her at something. Like she had only been playing his game all along.

 

* * *

 

_ Southern Earth Kingdom - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

They fled into the mountains beyond the woods, and found a cave large enough to accomodate Appa. Katara had taken the reins, and she urged the bison as far into the cave as he would go before she climbed down from his head. Aang leaped down from the saddle just behind her.

 

“We can’t leave Zuko behind!” Aang protested.

 

“Don’t worry,” Katara assured him firmly, “I’m not.” She walked to the mouth of the cave and glanced up at the sky. Aang followed close behind her, and saw that storm clouds were gathering. They’d have to move quickly.

 

“Where do you think the archers took him?” he asked.

 

Katara headed back into the cave and retrieved her pack from Appa’s saddle. She pulled off her parka and slung both her waterskins across her torso. “They had to be the Yuyan archers,” she explained. “They’re Zhao’s favorite minions - I guess he got to keep them in spite of his banishment.” She pulled a dark blue poncho out of her pack that looked like it was made from sealskin - probably that was better in the rain than the heavy fur parka, Aang realized.

 

“So Zhao’s ship must be somewhere nearby,” Aang mused aloud.

 

“Right,” Katara agreed, stuffing her parka into the pack hastily. “And since he can’t go back to the Fire Nation without you,” here she gave him a pointed look, “he’s probably not going too far any time soon.”

 

Aang picked up his airbending staff. “Alright,” he said determinedly. “Let’s start looking then.”

 

Katara looked at him in surprise. “I’m going by myself,” she said firmly. 

 

“But I can help!” Aang protested, ramming the end of his staff against the floor of the cave. “I’m good at being sneaky! That’s perfect for a rescue!”

 

“Absolutely not,” Katara insisted, closing her pack and standing. “I’m not taking that risk.”

 

Aang frowned at her. “First you want me to be a warrior,” he said, his voice rising in frustration, “now you want me to stay here and hide?” 

 

“Aang, the Fire Nation soldiers won’t be playing games,” Katara shot back. “They won’t care that you’re a child. They  _ will _ try to hurt you. You have to wait here.” Aang wanted to argue, but Katara’s tone was final.

 

She went to look outside again. The sky was growing darker by the minute. “Stay in the cave,” she ordered. “Don’t risk being seen for any reason. If I’m not back in twelve hours, you go straight to Gaoling and find Lagora, the healer. Tell her I sent you, and she’ll help you get to the Underground.” She glanced back over her shoulder at Aang. “Understood?”

 

“Got it,” Aang replied sullenly. Keep hiding, just like he’d done for the last hundred and ten years. He supposed he was pretty good at it by now.

 

“Good,” Katara said. Then she left the cave and began her climb down towards the shore.

 

Aang went further back into the cave, where he’d be even less likely to be seen, and sat against Appa’s side with a sigh. Momo came and curled up in his lap, like he’d done with Zuko just that morning. Aang stroked the lemur’s soft fur absently. He stayed that way for a long time.

 

It seemed ridiculous, waiting here and doing nothing while Katara marched into danger to try to rescue Zuko. He knew it was their job to protect him, but it’s not like he was totally helpless. How was he supposed to face up to his responsibilities as the Avatar like everyone wanted him to if he stayed hidden and ran away from every danger? Doing that was what had gotten the world into this mess in the first place…

 

He stood up suddenly. Momo squawked in protest and scurried away. Aang paced to the front of the cave and back a few times. Outside, it had started to rain. He picked up his staff, twirling it in one hand and bending a gust of wind against the wall of the cave in agitation. He  _ wasn’t _ just a child. That had been very clear to him ever since they’d left Roku’s temple on Crescent Island. It wasn’t fair that he was still being treated like one.

 

He bended a stream of water from the now heavy rain outside and flung it at the same spot on the wall where he’d directed the wind. It splashed harmlessly against the rock. Gathering the water up again, he focused his energy, executing the movements just as he must have seen Katara do them a hundred times. This time, he didn’t pull his punch - and a water whip struck the cave wall hard enough to chip the stone.

 

“I’m not unwilling,” Aang said. Appa merely blinked slowly at him. Momo poked his head over the rim of the saddle and gave Aang a quizzical look. “I can do some good, and I’m going to prove it to them.”

 

He leaped onto Appa’s head, took the reins, and directed the bison out of the cave. It was still raining heavily, but they’d flown through worse storms. As they took to the air, Aang searched the coastline for any sign of a Fire Nation ship. It was hard to see very far in the rain, and it was slow going, but he was determined. 

 

He’d find Zhao, even if he had to search all through the night, and he’d help Katara rescue Zuko. He was the Avatar, and it was his duty.

 

* * *

 

_ South Pole - Nine Years Earlier _

 

Katara still went to her healing lessons with Kida most mornings, if she didn’t have too many other chores to do, but her afternoons were now given over entirely to lessons with Amaruk. She’d tried to put aside her initial resentment towards him - he was a good teacher, if a bit demanding. He expected her to perfect each move of each form before he’d let her move on to the next one. Even so, she knew she was making steady progress.

 

After a month, he let her start sparring with Kohnna. She lost their first two bouts, but she knew he had far more experience than her, so she didn’t take it hard. Their third fight ended with him knocked flat on his back by an ice disk.

 

She had barely a second to enjoy her victory before a blast of water blindsided her, knocking her down as well. She glared at Amaruk, pushing wet hair out of her face. “What did you do that for?” she asked indignantly.

 

“You let your guard fall as soon as your opponent was down,” Amaruk replied.

 

“Yeah,” Katara said, “because the fight was over.”

 

Kohnna had gotten to his feet. “Come on, Dad,” he said, offering Katara a hand to help her up. “Cut her some slack. She just won a fight for the first time.” Katara accepted his help. “Nice job, by the way,” he said to her with a grin. She thought he held on to her hand longer than was necessary.

 

“A real fight does not necessarily end when one opponent is subdued,” Amaruk lectured them, crossing his arms sternly. “You have to stay on your guard until you are certain there is no more danger. Best to form that habit now.”

 

“It’s just a training exercise,” Kohnna muttered.

 

“It won’t always be,” Amaruk warned him. Then he turned back to Katara. “Fire Nation soldiers  _ will _ try to kill you. They won’t care that you’re a girl. They won’t hold back, so neither will I. Understood?”

 

Katara met Amaruk’s green gaze, as hard as ice. She hated to admit it, but she could see his point. “Understood,” she replied begrudgingly.

 

“Good,” Amaruk said with a nod. “Now, both of you, show me the seventh form again.”

 

He had pushed the training session longer than usual, making them do extra drills until well after the sun had gone down. When Katara came to Kida’s healing hut the next morning, she was late for her lesson, and her eyes still felt heavy. Kida took one look at her and frowned.

 

“Lagora, Nivi,” she said, “Why don’t you go check on Hanna. See if she and her boy are feeling better.” The two girls obeyed, casting furtive glances at Katara as they left. Katara squirmed under the collective disapproval of the other healers. “I hope,” Kida said to Katara when they were alone, “that Amaruk is not pushing you too hard.”

 

“He’s not,” Katara insisted. “I can handle anything he throws at me. Don’t worry.”

 

Kida shook her head sadly. “A rigorous training regimine will be just the beginning, I’m afraid. Amaruk’s ambitions are lofty. Once he sees you have met his expectations, he demands more.” She walked over to the firepit, where a cauldron hung over the flames. Katara could smell the redthorn berries boiling. Kida swirled her hand over the cauldron, stirring the water with her bending. “That’s how he has always been,” she muttered, half to herself.

 

“Is that why you didn’t want him to train me?” Katara shot back. She’d never confronted Kida about it before, but finding out she had been the one to impose the ridiculous test that had kept her from learning to fight for so long had felt like a personal betrayal. In her exhaustion, she was now cranky enough not to care if Kida knew of her resentment.

 

Kida looked at her sternly. “I didn’t want him to manipulate you into something you did not want to do,” she said. Looking back to the cauldron, she flicked her wrist and drew some of the water out. It was a golden-yellow color from the berries; Katara knew it had to boil until it was orange, and then it would be used to clean wounds and prevent infection. “Believe me, even if you had been dead set against it, he would have tried,” Kida explained, letting the water fall back into the cauldron. “I’m happy for you to learn from him, but for your own purposes, not for his.”

 

Katara was mollified somewhat, though she still felt Kida was a bit hypocritical accusing Amaruk of being manipulative. But she burned with curiosity over another question. As long as she was being honest, she might as well ask it. “Is it not what you want for yourself?”

 

“Me?” Kida asked with a chuckle. “I’m a bit old to start training as a warrior now. I’ve been a healer for decades and I’m good at it. That’s enough for me.”

 

“But what about Yanor?” Katara pressed. “She’s young enough. And Lagora and Nivi are my age, but whenever I suggest they come with me to Amaruk’s lessons they make excuses.”

 

Kida grew more serious. “Perhaps they don’t want to.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“You must understand, Katara,” Kida said, setting a lid over the cauldron and leaving it to stew. “In the north, we have traditions. It is not only the men who believe in them.”

 

Katara planted her hands firmly on her hips. “Do you really think they’re not good enough, just because they’re girls?” she demanded.

 

“It has nothing to do with being good enough,” Kida replied just as firmly. “Most women see it as beneath them.”

 

“What?” Katara was shocked. “How is it beneath us to defend our people? What could be more important?”

 

“Curing their illnesses,” Kida suggested. “Mending the wounded, so they can still support the tribe. Saving weak newborns from death.”

 

Katara let out a frustrated sigh. “Of course all that is important! But-”

 

“But what?” Kida cut her off. “Not everyone wants to fight, Katara. Not everyone can. Let them be. An unwilling warrior is no good to anyone.”

 

Katara crossed her arms angrily. After a moment, she said darkly, “They only think that way because it’s what the men have told them.”

 

“Give us northern women more credit than that,” Kida admonished her with a patient smile. “We’re here, aren’t we? Pakku didn’t think we should have come at all.”

 

Katara didn’t argue any further after that. But that day was the last time she went for healing lessons with Kida.

 

* * *

 

_ Southern Earth Kingdom - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

Zuko woke up, unsurprisingly, in the brig of a Fire Nation ship. The first thing he noticed was that he was lying on his side on the hard metal deck. When he tried to push himself up, he realized his hands were shackled behind his back. The shackles and the chains around his ankles were also fixed to the floor, so the most he could manage was a slightly less uncomfortable kneeling position.

 

His right arm still throbbed with pain, but someone had taken the arrow out, pushing up his sleeve and bandaging the wound enough to stop the bleeding. The chains chafed against the wound unpleasantly, but on the whole it hurt much less than Zuko would have expected. Perhaps they’d drugged him as well - that would also account for the lightheaded, almost giddy feeling, that was totally incongruous with his dire situation.

 

He took comfort in the fact that he seemed to be the only prisoner - the cells in the brig were separated only by iron grills, and all the rest were empty. Hopefully, that meant Katara and Aang were well on their way to Gaoling by now.

 

He didn’t have to wait long for his first visitor. The door to the brig screeched open, and the looming figure of the ship’s captain stalked straight over to his cell, fiddling with keys for a moment to open the grate. Apparently, Zhao wanted to gloat up close and in person. That suited Zuko just fine - if Zhao was here to torment him, that meant he wasn’t tormenting anyone else, at least for the moment.

 

Zhao folded his arms and looked down at his prisoner in triumph. “I suppose you’ll be happy to know the Avatar got away,” he said. Zuko was happy, actually. It was what he had hoped for. He looked up at his captor’s scarred face and almost felt like laughing. “But I have you, at least, to deliver to the Fire Lord,” Zhao went on. “She’ll certainly be pleased to hear that. And if the Avatar and your little waterbender try to stage a rescue, so much the better.”

 

Zuko rolled his eyes. “They’re not going to fall for such an obvious trap.” At least, he hoped they wouldn’t. He knew Katara wouldn’t be happy about leaving him behind, but they’d all be a lot worse off if Aang got captured, too. The Fire Nation could not be allowed to get their hands on the Avatar.

 

“You know,” Zhao replied with a shrug, “I’m feeling sentimental lately. I think I’m going to bet on true love, this time. That woman won’t be able to leave behind her poor sweet prince.” He said this last in a mockingly saccharine tone. Zuko almost laughed again - he sounded ridiculous. But Zhao’s next words sobered him. “Of course, the Phoenix King wants the Avatar alive, and your sister would rather kill you herself, but no one cares what happens to the water tribe peasant. I guess that’s up to me to decide.”

 

Foolishly, Zuko tried to stand, succeeding only in straining his arms and his back against the chains that still held him fast. His injured arm protested painfully. “She would kill you,” he said darkly.

 

Zhao only smiled. “We’ll see,” he said.

 

Settling back onto his knees, Zuko glared at him. He might be physically helpless at the moment, but there were other ways to strike back at his captor. He jerked his chin, indicating the scars on the right side of Zhao’s face. “Did Azula do that to you?”

 

Zhao’s lip curled. That was a yes, then, and a sore spot. Zuko smirked, feeling slightly giddy again, and kept pressing. “What did she do, try to claw your face off with her bare hands? You weren’t even good enough for her fire?” He let his eyes drift lazily to the side as if disinterested, tilting his head to the right. “Just between us disgraced exiles, I’d say I made out better in the scar department.”

 

Zhao was on him in an instant, holding a flaming fist dangerously close to Zuko’s face. Zuko flinched involuntarily. Perhaps goading him had not been the wisest decision after all. “Maybe you’d like me to even it out for you,” Zhao growled.

 

Feeling no less stupidly cocky - he had definitely been drugged, or had a concussion, or something, part of him registered vaguely - Zuko took a deep breath, felt the roaring energy of Zhao’s fire, and nonchalantly snuffed it out as he exhaled. “No, thank you,” he said politely.

 

_ That _ really made Zhao mad, but he reined himself in rather than lashing out. “A smart mouth and some parlor tricks won’t help you escape from this ship,” he said, standing upright again. “Or from the Fire Lord’s wrath. Your sister will wipe that grin off your face, if nothing else.”

 

He turned to leave, but Zuko called out one last question in genuine curiosity. “Why are you so loyal to her? She clearly doesn’t think very highly of you anymore.”

 

Zhao halted outside the cell, one hand on the grate. “I don’t care what that madwoman thinks of me,” he spat. “But once my honor is restored, she may yet have her uses.”

 

And with that cryptic answer, he slammed the grate shut, and stalked out of the brig, leaving Zuko alone to contemplate the disturbing question of what those uses might be.

 

It was hard to keep track of time precisely from the windowless brig, but Zuko could definitely feel that the sun had gone down by the time he heard the commotion outside the door. A guard started to shout, but was abruptly cut off. If there were others, they never got the chance to sound the alarm. The fight didn’t last long, but through it all he heard the distinctive sound of water impacting against metal at high velocity.

 

So, Zhao had been right. True love had won out after all.

 

The door screeched open again, and Zuko couldn’t help but smile as his wife stepped over the fallen body of a guard and into the room. Her face was slightly flushed, and her blue eyes were sharp and alert as she unlocked his cell with stolen keys, assessing every inch of him.

 

“You’re beautiful,” he said stupidly. Probably he was still feeling the effects of whatever they’d drugged him with. That was his excuse.

 

Katara gave a snort of laughter. “You always say that when I’m rescuing you.”

 

Okay, so maybe he had no excuse. “It’s always true,” he defended himself.

 

A few swipes of Katara’s hands, and razor-sharp arcs of water broke his chains. She helped him to his feet, frowning over his bandaged arm. “We don’t have time for me to heal this,” she said apologetically.

 

“I’ll manage,” Zuko replied, stretching his left arm. Firebending one-handed wasn’t ideal, but he’d fought under worse circumstances before. “Where’s Aang?”

 

“Somewhere safe,” was all Katara said, and Zuko nodded. He was selfishly glad she had come back for him, but it was a relief not to have to worry about Aang being captured on his account.

 

They hurried out of the brig and were almost immediately met by another wave of soldiers coming to investigate what had happened to the guards. Zuko’s right arm seared with pain as they fought them off, even though he only summoned flames with his left hand - either the drugs were wearing off, or the exertion was aggravating the wound, or both.

 

But Zhao’s crew were hardly elite warriors - a stark contrast with the highly skilled forces he had once had under his command, and with the archers he’d used to attack them earlier. How was an exiled naval officer allowed to retain the Yuyan archers at his disposal, yet given nothing but old men and mediocre firebenders to crew his ship? Zuko had never had any special resources granted to him during his banishment, but his crew had at least been more competent than this. If it was all Azula’s doing, that did seem to be further evidence that she was not making such decisions under the full light of reason…

 

Whatever the explanation, Zuko and Katara were able to fight their way up onto the deck of the ship relatively quickly. There was something comforting about fighting together again, and how easily they had slipped back into the familiar patterns after so long. Zuko knew how Katara thought and moved in a fight as well as he knew himself, and she could say the same of him. He covered her back, and she covered his right side, and they were a formidable team, just like in the old days. 

 

Once they were on the deck, they finally crossed paths with Zhao himself. If he was disappointed that it was only Katara who had come to Zuko’s rescue, and that the Avatar remained beyond his grasp, he didn’t show it. He merely attacked them with the full force of his fire. Zuko was just able to deflect the flames away from them with his one good arm.

 

But Katara was a master waterbender, and now that they were on the deck under the light of the moon, the entire ocean around them was her weapon. With a great heaving motion of both arms, she drenched the entire ship, sweeping Zhao and all of his crew off their feet. She had frozen Zuko’s feet and her own to the deck as she did so, and melted the ice just as quickly as the water drained over the sides of the ship, leaving them the only ones standing.

 

They ran for the railing. There was no need to discuss a plan - Zuko knew that as soon as they leaped over the side, Katara would have a raft of ice waiting below them, and they could make their escape.

 

The dark silhouette of a large, furry shape rapidly approaching in the sky caught Zuko’s attention, and he grabbed Katara’s arm, causing them both to skid to a halt. So much for Aang being somewhere safe. “I told him to stay hidden!” Katara shouted in frustration.

 

A sarcastic reply died on Zuko’s lips as a fireball grazed the shoulder of his injured arm. He let out a grunt of pain, falling to one knee, as Katara whirled around to block the strike that followed. Zhao had recovered, and had taken advantage of their distraction to attack.

 

But as soon as he realized what had distracted them, Zhao changed targets, launching fireballs at Appa instead. Katara and Zuko did their best to block some of them, and Appa was able to dodge the rest. 

 

“Don’t stand there staring!” Zhao was yelling at his crew, who by now had gotten back on their feet as well. “Bring down that beast!”

 

The crew hurried to comply with their captain’s orders, though they also had to fight off Zuko and Katara, who had attacked them again. Only a few fireballs were actually launched at the flying bison, and Aang was still able to evade them. But he was getting closer, and making himself an easier target every moment.

 

Soon he was close enough that Zuko could see the fiercely determined expression on his face illuminated by the flashes of fire. It was the look of a boy desperate to prove himself, a boy with far too much weight on his shoulders, who saw every attempt by his guardians to lighten his burden as a slight as his ability to carry it alone, as he believed was his duty. Zuko knew that look well.

 

Zhao was poised to shoot another blast of fire straight at Aang, but had to hold back at the last minute to deflect the fireball Zuko hurled at him instead. Before he could recover to attack again, a high-pressure jet of water forced him back, towards the starboard rail of the deck. He tried to duck out of the way, but Katara hit him with another blast of water from the side. She kept up her assault, never giving Zhao any quarter, until finally with a great push she threw him over the side of the ship and into the sea below.

 

Those crew members who were still standing ran to Zhao’s aide. They clearly had more concern for their captain than commitment to capturing the Avatar - no wonder they’d never advanced very far in the Fire Nation navy. While they fished him out of the water, Katara bended a stream of water around herself and Zuko, carrying them up into the air and dropping them onto Appa’s saddle. Without breaking pace, the bison flew past the ship and away towards the coast, carrying all three of them to safety.

 

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Katara scolded when it was clear they were not being pursued. Aang turned around and climbed up to join them in the saddle, looking at Katara defiantly.

 

“Why not?” he challenged her. “I helped you get away, didn’t I? And I didn’t get captured or hurt or anything. It all worked out fine.”

 

“It wasn’t worth the risk!” Katara insisted. “We were about to escape anyway when you showed up. Zuko got hurt again because you distracted us in the middle of a fight!”

 

Aang shrank at her words and looked at Zuko with wide eyes, taking in the singed flesh of his upper arm. “Oh,” he said in a small voice. “I didn’t realize…”

 

“It could have been a lot worse,” Zuko said. Aang shrank further, and Zuko’s gut twisted. He wasn’t trying to guilt the boy, but he had to learn... “We’ve talked about you running into danger.”

 

Aang sat up a little straighter. “I’m sorry you got hurt because of me,” he said earnestly. “But I can’t just run away and hide every time there’s danger,” he argued. “To end this war, to do my duty as the Avatar, I need to be a warrior.” The boy’s voice faltered only slightly at the end of his pronouncement, but it was enough for Zuko to catch it.

 

“But you’re not ready,” Zuko pointed out. “You’re not a warrior yet.”

 

Aang looked back at Katara. “Well, I am willing to be,” he said.

 

Katara nodded. “Then you need to follow our directions,” she said, more kindly than her earlier scolding. “We want to help you do your duty as the Avatar. You have to accept that help.”

 

Aang gave a small nod. Satisfied, Katara turned her attention to Zuko. “Let me see your arm,” she said. She gloved one hand in water from her waterskin and gently unwrapped the bandages around his forearm, revealing the arrow wound. It was only about an inch long, but it went clean through his arm. Whatever had been dulling the pain before had definitely worn off by now - his entire forearm was swollen and throbbing, on top of the searing pain in his upper arm.

 

Katara placed her water-covered hand over the wound, and the water began to glow. Aang looked on with undisguised interest.

 

“No damage to the bones,” Katara said absently, “and none to the major blood vessels, obviously, or you’d be bleeding out much more.” As she spoke, Zuko could feel the swelling going down and the pain lessening again. After a minute, the healing water was absorbed into his skin. Katara drew more water out of her waterskin and applied it to the wound again, this time knitting it closed.

 

“Wow,” Aang breathed softly, “I had no idea you could do that with waterbending.”

 

“Katara’s a great healer,” Zuko said appreciatively.

 

Katara smiled at him. “I’m alright,” she said modestly. “Nivi was always the prodigy.”

 

As Katara turned her attention to the burn on his shoulder, Zuko caught Aang eyeing the jagged lightning scar that wrapped around his arm. When Katara’s healing was done, Zuko tugged down his tattered and bloodstained sleeve self-consciously. Aang met his eye, but didn’t ask anything. “Not everyone gets the luxury of waiting until they’re ready,” Zuko said, just to have something to say. Aang looked at him curiously for a moment, then nodded again.

 

“Alright,” Katara said. “We’ve had enough delays. It’s time we headed for Gaoling.”

 

Aang adjusted their course, guiding Appa towards the southeast, and they were on their way at last. If all went smoothly, they’d be with the Underground before the week was out.


	8. The Underground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko, Katara, and Aang finally arrive in Gaoling and meet up with the resistance movement.
> 
> In the past, Zuko and Iroh prepare for the return of Sozin's comet.

**Book I: Water**

 

**Chapter 7: The Underground**

 

_Gaoling, South-Western Earth Kingdom - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet_

 

They finally drew near to the town of Gaoling around noon on the fourth day after their escape from Zhao’s ship. It was a clear, crisp day, with not a cloud in sight. The mountains surrounding the town were stood out starkly, dark peaks against the pale blue sky, and the rooftops of the houses and shops were a brilliant green.

 

They landed in a wooded glen in the foothills to the north of the town, where Appa and Momo would be well-hidden. The people of Gaoling had little love for the Phoenix King who claimed to rule them, but on the whole they found paying their taxes to him an acceptable price for peace. Showing up in town with an obvious airbender in tow would be unwise. Aang was reluctant to leave the bison behind, but Zuko assured him it was only temporary, and besides, he would have the lemur for company. Privately, Katara wondered if the Underground would really be able to accommodate the large beast, but she said nothing.

 

While Aang said his goodbyes to Appa and Momo, Katara dug a square of blue cloth out of her pack. It had probably been included in their supplies for mending clothes - Amaruk and Kinto had been very thorough, after all - but it was large enough to function as a headscarf as well. She threw the cloth to Aang.

 

“Tie that over your head,” she directed, “to cover your tattoos.” Aang attempted to comply, but clearly had no idea how to do it, and Zuko wound up having to help him. The end result still looked odd with his orange and yellow clothing, but at least it didn’t scream “airbender” too loudly.

 

Next she tossed down Zuko’s pack, and then her own. Zuko caught each of them deftly. Best not to show up looking totally destitute, either - and on the off chance that Appa was discovered in their absence, at least they wouldn’t run the risk of losing all their supplies as well. She climbed down from the saddle, shouldered her pack - Zuko already had his on - and the three of them set out.

 

“Now, when we’re in town,” Zuko said as they began their walk, “we use code names. I’m Lee, and Katara is Kya.” Aang nodded his understanding enthusiastically. “You should pick a name for yourself, too,” Zuko added.

 

“How about Kuzon?” Aang suggested.

 

Zuko and Katara exchanged a surprised look. “A Fire Nation name?” Katara asked.

 

“I had a friend named Kuzon, before the war,” Aang explained. “And if you guys pretend to be my parents, it would make sense for me to have a Fire Nation name, wouldn’t it?”

 

Zuko made an uncomfortable sound somewhere between a groan and a cough, while Katara laughed. “We’re not quite old enough to pass as your parents,” she pointed out good-naturedly. “And people in Gaoling know us - or they know Lee and Kya, anyway. We can’t just show up with a twelve-year-old son out of nowhere.”

 

“Oh yeah,” Aang said. He tilted his head, considering. “Maybe I’m your nephew then?”

 

Katara nodded. “That could work.”

 

“You should still choose a different name, though,” Zuko said. “We don’t want to look like we have any ties to the Fire Nation.”

 

Aang gave Zuko a skeptical look, as if to say how convincing he found that idea, but then shrugged. “What about Kisu, then?” he suggested. “He was one of my friends at the air temple.”

 

“Okay,” Katara agreed. “So our story is, you’re Lee’s nephew, and we’ve taken you in because your parents died. We’re in Gaoling again looking for my brother.” It was close enough to the truth that none of them should have trouble keeping it straight - Aang and Zuko were even related, sort of, through Avatar Roku.

 

“It won’t seem odd that this whole family is wandering around the Earth Kingdom getting separated?” Aang asked. “I thought people in the other nations mostly stayed in one place.”

 

Zuko shook his head sadly. “Since the burning of the Earth Kingdom during the comet, it’s pretty common,” he explained. “Lots of people were displaced, and most of them still haven’t found new homes. You see drifters and refugees in all the big towns.”

 

“Oh,” Aang said. “I guess I hadn’t thought of that.”

 

They walked in silence for a while, coming out of the woods and approaching the walls of the town. “Remember,” Zuko said, giving Aang a warning look, “stick close to us, and follow our lead. No wandering off, and no improvisations.”

 

“Yes, Uncle,” Aang said dutifully with a smile, clearly enjoying playing his part in their charade.

 

Zuko flinched just slightly. Aang didn’t seem to notice, but Katara reached out and squeezed his hand. He sighed, then looped her arm around his and led her into the town, with Aang following close behind them.

 

They made their way towards the main square at the center of town, stopping to chat briefly with the people who recognized them. Aang had a way of charming people that made their story all the more convincing - no one would suspect such a gregarious young boy of hiding anything. When Katara mentioned her brother - by his code name, Desna - she was informed that no one had seen him in town for a long time, but this didn’t worry her. She was certain that Lagora, at least, would know how to find him.

 

When they reached the main square, they found most of the stalls empty - it wasn’t a market day, so there were no farmers from the surrounding region there to sell produce. A few traveling merchants were in town - one selling cloth, another displaying bright copper cookware, and a third offering exotic teas and spices. In spite of the hardship the Earth Kingdom as a whole had faced in the last few years, the people of Gaoling were still wealthy enough to afford such luxuries, and there were no small number of shoppers in the square.

 

They bypassed the stalls, Zuko leading them towards the row of shops on the south side of the square. Katara couldn’t help but cast a nervous glance towards the town hall, where the Fire Nation flag stood out in stark red against the green rooftop. There were more soldiers stationed outside than she remembered. But her attention was quickly diverted when she noticed Aang was no longer following them. She had to drag him away from the display of brightly colored shoes in front of the cobbler’s shop - which they didn’t need and probably couldn’t afford anyway. At last they walked through the door of the small apothecary which was at the end of the row.

 

A bell rang as Zuko pushed the door open, but the shopkeeper was already in the front of the store, helping one of her customers. Both women looked their way as they came in - one tall and fair, wearing a plain brown and yellow dress, the other dark-skinned and dressed in distinctive blue and white - and both faces immediately lit up with surprised recognition.

 

“Kya! Lee!” Suki said without missing a beat. “I never expected to see you here when I came to town this morning.” An older man who was examining the shelf of herbal remedies against the wall turned and glanced over the newcomers for a moment, then went back to his shopping.

 

“We didn’t expect to find you here either, Bulan,” Katara replied. “We were just looking for Lagora.”

 

The woman in question had come around to the other side of the counter and gave Katara a heartfelt hug. It was always good to see another Water Tribe woman, when you were so far from home. “What are you doing back here?” Lagora asked. She kept her tone light, but the look she gave Katara was piercing.

 

“Neither of you have ever met Kisu,” Zuko supplied, putting a hand on Aang’s shoulder and pushing him forward a bit. The boy had become shy again amid the reunion of the adults. “He’s my nephew.”

 

“The same nephew Lee was looking for all that time, if you remember,” Katara added.

 

Lagora’s brow furrowed in confusion, but Suki’s eyes widened. “Really?” she said, looking at Aang with scrutiny, but also a hint of awe. “We didn’t think your uncle was ever going to find you, young man.”

 

Aang laughed nervously. “Yeah,” he said with an apologetic shrug. “I didn’t mean to disappear for so long.”

 

“It wasn’t your fault,” Katara reminded him. “Anyway, now that we’ve found Kisu, we’re looking for Desna - is he still around here somewhere?”

 

Lagora laughed. “Oh, you know how your brother is,” she said, seeming relieved to be following the conversation again. “He spends all that time up in the mountains to get closer to the spirits or whatever it is he does. But yeah, he’s around.”

 

“I can take you to him,” Suki offered. “I’m sure he’ll be thrilled you found your nephew - big family reunion, right?”

 

“Right,” Zuko confirmed. “That’s why we’re here.”

 

Suki nodded and turned to Lagora. “You’ll come see my sister later, then?” Lagora nodded, and didn’t seem too concerned, so whatever was ailing one of Suki’s warriors that required a healer couldn’t be too serious.

 

They said their goodbyes and left the shop. Suki looped one arm around Katara’s once they were outside, while Aang and Zuko trailed behind them. “You’ve got a lot of explaining to do,” she said in a low voice. Katara smiled and nodded - but all of Suki’s questions would have to wait until they were somewhere less public, and they both knew it.

 

“You should know,” Suki went on in a careful tone as she led them towards the town’s eastern gate, “we had word of your father recently.” She gave Katara a pitying look, and Katara’s heart skipped a beat. It couldn’t be good news. “He’s come down with the sweltering sickness.”

 

Katara’s blood ran cold. Sweltering sickness was code for being captured by the Fire Nation.

 

* * *

 

_Ba Sing Se - Ten Years Earlier_

 

Zuko let out an involuntary sigh of relief as he pushed through the door into the kitchen of the tea shop, enjoying the respite from the chattering of their customers, however brief he knew it would be. Setting down the tray of cups he had just cleared from one of his tables, he looked around, surprised to see the kitchen empty.

 

“Uncle?” he called out. “Table four is waiting for their ginseng, is it ready?”

 

“I’m back here,” came his uncle’s voice from the pantry. “Come here a minute.”

 

Confused, Zuko obeyed. He found Iroh pouring over a letter, his brows drawn and his mouth set in a grim line. Zuko didn’t know who could be writing to them while they were living under false names in the lower ring of Ba Sing Se, but it certainly didn’t look like they had sent good news.

 

“What’s wrong?” Zuko asked.

 

“We’re closing early today,” Iroh replied. He gave Zuko a serious look. “Get everyone out within the hour. Then we have much to discuss.”

 

Zuko waited a moment for further explanation, but none was forthcoming. Iroh went back to reading the letter, waving a hand to dismiss his nephew. “Go on,” he said. “The order for table four is waiting by the stove.”

 

Zuko complied with his uncle’s instructions, delivering the order and hanging the sign in the window of the shop to indicate they were closed. The group of girls at table four twittered to each other about this unusual turn of events - they were regulars, and knew the tea shop’s hours. When they asked him why the shop was closing early, he could only stammer a half-coherent answer, which made them all giggle as he walked away, glad that he’d be done with them soon.

 

But he was far more anxious about what his uncle’s letter said than he was relieved to see them go when the last customers finally left. Hastily retreating to the supply room, he found Iroh much as he had left him, only now he had rolled up the letter and was staring hard at the floor, deep in thought.

 

“What’s going on?” Zuko asked. “Who was that letter from?”

 

Iroh looked up at him, and smiled reassuringly. “Let’s just say I still have a friend or two back home,” he answered cryptically. “One of my friends just happens to be privy to certain...information, about the Fire Lord’s war councils. And he felt that this information should be shared with me.”

 

“You’ve had...spies? In Father’s war councils?” Zuko said in disbelief. “This whole time?”

 

“‘Spies’ is such a negative word,” Iroh replied. “As I said, they are merely my friends. When you get to be an old man like me, you have friends in all sorts of places.”

 

“And what did your...friend tell you, that’s got you so worried?” Zuko pressed, growing increasingly annoyed. His uncle was dancing around the point.

 

Iroh sighed. “He says that when Sozin’s comet makes its pass again at the end of the summer, the Fire Lord plans to take advantage of it to lay waste to as much of the Earth Kingdom as he can.” Zuko was taken aback - he hadn’t considered what the return of the comet might mean - but when he thought about it, it wasn’t surprising. Of course his father wouldn’t pass up an opportunity like that.

 

“In particular,” Iroh went on, “he aims to raze Ba Sing Se to the ground, to prove once and for all that none can stand against the might of the Fire Nation.” The look his uncle gave him now was one of careful scrutiny, and yet Zuko still couldn’t understand.

 

“Okay,” he said, thinking for a moment. “The comet comes in a month, right? So we have plenty of time to get out of the city by then.”

 

Iroh closed his eyes and sighed again, and Zuko was painfully aware that what he had said had disappointed his uncle somehow. Getting to his feet, Iroh came closer and placed both hands on his nephew’s shoulders.

 

“Zuko, please,” he said, his voice thick with emotion yet unfaltering. “The time has come to stop running away.”

 

“I don’t see what else we’re supposed to do,” Zuko insisted stubbornly. There was no point in staying in the path of danger. They couldn’t even warn anyone else, without exposing themselves as Fire Nation and incurring the wrath of Earth Kingdom justice, and their own people would show them no more mercy. Best to just get out of the way quietly while they still could. “We don’t have a choice,” he concluded in a low voice.

 

“There is always a choice,” Iroh replied. “A choice to do what is easy, or to do what is right.” His hands tightened on Zuko’s shoulders until his grip was almost painful. “To save ourselves, or to stand up those who would sow devastation on the world.”

 

Zuko shook his head. “No. You can’t mean…” He couldn’t even say it.

 

“Ozai is going to lead the attack on Ba Sing Se personally,” Iroh declared. “And I am going to challenge him.”

 

“Uncle,” Zuko pleaded, “that’s insane. You can’t do that.”

 

“I cannot in good conscience do anything else!” his uncle shot back. “Your father is no better than Zhao, and his designs no less catastrophic for the world. He cannot be allowed to carry out his plans unchecked!”

 

Zuko shoved Iroh away from him, breaking his grip. “I don’t believe you!” he shouted. “My father is not-”

 

“Zuko, think!” Iroh shouted back. It was the first time Zuko could ever remember his uncle cutting him off like that. “He has treated you, his own son, who has shown him nothing but loyalty, with abuse and contempt! A man who is so unjust to his own family is no less cruel to the rest of the world!”

 

Zuko shook his head. He was speechless. He couldn’t believe the things he was hearing, couldn’t bear to hear them. He had never wanted to hear those things spoken out loud, no matter how much he might have secretly…

 

“Ozai is not the good man you think he is,” Iroh went on, his voice more measured, even apologetic. “And I am sorry that I can no longer wait for you to admit this to yourself in your own time.”

 

Zuko turned away, his face hot and his eyes burning. He wanted to call his uncle a liar, a traitor, a fool. How could Iroh even think such things? But in the place in his chest where that dull ache had lived for the last several months, in his heart, he knew exactly how. Every shameful, dishonorable thought he had ever briefly had now clamored for his attention, trying to convince him that what his uncle said was true.

 

“I am going to stand against Ozai,” Iroh said again. “I will defend this city.” He drew close to Zuko again, placing his left hand on his nephew’s right shoulder. “I would like to have you at my side when I do.”

 

It was very tempting. His uncle’s arguments were sound, his concerns sincere, and his love and respect for his nephew unquestionable. In some ways, it would be the most natural thing in the world for Zuko to fight alongside him.

 

But to oppose the Fire Lord - to go up against his own father, deliberately…

 

“I can’t,” Zuko said, his voice very small. He remained turned towards the wall, unable to look his uncle in the face. Iroh’s hand stayed on his shoulder.

 

“Very well,” Iroh said, and though he sounded understanding, Zuko knew he’d disappointed him again. “But nevertheless, I must.”

 

“Why?” Zuko asked weakly. “Why do you have to do it? Why can’t it be someone else?”

 

“Who else is there, who could face him?” Iroh said sadly. “Ozai will not be stopped by a challenge from just anyone. In the absence of the Avatar, this task falls to us.” He squeezed Zuko’s shoulder reassuringly, and finally let his hand fall away. “To me,” he amended.

 

Zuko knew there was nothing he could do or say in the next month to change his uncle’s mind, as much as he wished he could.

 

* * *

 

_Gaoling, South-Western Earth Kingdom - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet_

 

The glen where Suki brought them to the east of the town looked exactly like the sort of place one would expect to find a spiritual recluse. A stream tumbled down from the mountains, sunlight dancing on the water as it babbled over dark stones. On the far side, tall evergreens grew on the steep bank, while the near side was somewhat more level. Ahead of them was a cliff face with several arched openings that looked man-made, but very ancient. One of them was hung with Water Tribe talismans - Katara only recognized one or two of them, meant to invite benevolent spirits.

 

Outside of this cave, there was a low, smoldering campfire with a tea kettle set on the hot coals. Sitting by the fire, with a steaming cup of tea in one hand and a writing tablet on his knee, was Sokka, dressed in loose-fitting brown robes. Around his neck hung several thin cords, each with a different object hanging from it - wood and stone amulets, a reed whistle, a shark tooth, and even a pai sho tile. He was engrossed in his writing, reed pen scratching away at the paper, and the tip of his tongue just poking out of the corner of his mouth.

 

“Planning a great campaign, O Mighty Warrior?” Katara asked. Sokka looked up at her and smiled. If he was surprised to see her and Zuko, he didn’t show it.

 

“Poetry, actually,” Sokka replied casually. “The water spirit who told me you were coming had a most charming voice, and I’ve been trying to capture it in verse all afternoon.” He took a sip of his tea, then set down the cup, but didn’t get to his feet. With his free hand he scratched at the beard that now covered his entire chin and jawline, less neatly trimmed than Katara remembered.

 

“You’re giving the mystic hermit thing your all, huh?” Zuko commented. When they’d last seen him, Sokka had only just told them about his first experience with the spirits, in vague terms. It had both frightened and intrigued him, then. Now, he seemed much more at ease with the subject.

 

“I wish I could give it more,” Sokka said wistfully. Katara just caught Suki’s frustrated grimace out of the corner of her eye. So, she was _not_ at ease with it, it seemed.

 

“You talk to the spirits?” Aang asked curiously.

 

Sokka looked at the boy as if just noticing him. “Well,” he demurred, “they talk to me.” Setting his writing materials aside, he finally stood, and gave Aang a searching look. “But they didn’t tell me _you_ were coming today,” he said softly.

 

“Today?” Aang asked, confused. “You mean they told you I was supposed to meet you some other time?”

 

“Oh,” Sokka said with a noncommittal wave of his hand, “they were vague as to the timing. But I’ve known I would one day meet the Avatar for a long time now.” He sounded oddly melancholy about it, and it made Katara nervous. There was a deeper wisdom in her brother’s eyes than she had ever known him to possess before, and she got the distinct impression that he now knew things that were hidden from mere mortals such as herself - and not all of them were good things, either.

 

Sokka turned those knowing eyes back to her. “Though it does make more sense, now,” he mused aloud, “why you would come here, when you had every reason to stay away.”

 

Katara stiffened at the reminder. “We were tasked with bringing the Avatar to the Underground,” she said. “Once we can say we’ve seen that done, we’re going back home.”

 

Aang started and looked between her and Zuko in confusion, and Katara realized belatedly that they had never discussed the extent of their mission with him. She and Zuko had understood, between themselves, that they would not stay long with the resistance, for much the same reason they had left in the first place. But what did Aang know of such reasons? They had told him it was their duty to protect him. Of course, he would have assumed this arrangement was indefinite.

 

“Then I’ll show you where the object of your quest is,” Sokka said wryly, “without further delay.”

 

He turned on his heel and set off at once, striking a course up a narrow path that ran by the stream, further up into the mountains. The rest of them hurried to follow. The path ended on a rocky outcropping against a sheer cliff face.

 

“There’s nothing here,” Aang observed in confusion.

 

“Not outside,” Sokka replied. Disentangling the whistle from the collection of trinkets around his neck, he blew a short series of sharp notes. In response, a sizable section of the cliff face shifted and sank down, revealing a tunnel sloping downward into the mountain, and a pair of earthbenders, who both nodded at Sokka in greeting.

 

“Welcome to the Underground,” Suki said, leading the way into the tunnel.

 

Once they were inside, and the entrance closed back up behind them, Katara felt at ease to speak freely. “What happened to Dad?” she asked Sokka in a hushed voice.

 

Sokka grimaced. “They’d just had a narrow scrape with the Fire Nation navy, and had to find a harbor in the colonies to repair their ships. The spot they chose turned out not to be safe enough.” Katara shuddered. The same thing could have so easily happened to them, just a few days ago. “They lost Uquino, and Dad was captured. The rest made it away safely.”

 

“Do you have any idea where he’s being held?” Katara asked.

 

“None,” Sokka replied sadly, “Or I’d have attempted a rescue by now.” He gave his sister a small smile. “I’m not _that_ much of a hermit, you know.”

 

“Sokka the warrior monk,” Katara said, shaking her head. “You and Aang will have so much to talk about.”

 

“We’ll have to let the General know he’s here first,” Sokka said as they came to a place where the tunnel branched in three directions. He turned over his shoulder to look at Zuko. “And he’ll want to see you, of course.”

 

Zuko nodded, and he and Aang followed Sokka towards the middle of the three tunnels. But Suki pulled Katara aside towards the right hand tunnel instead. “Since you’re here,” she said, “maybe you can take a look at Ty Lee, so she doesn’t have to wait for Lagora.”

 

“Alright,” Katara agreed with a glance at Zuko, who nodded again. Aang looked at her hesitantly, but she waved her hand, encouraging him to go with the men, and the group parted ways.

 

“What’s wrong with Ty Lee?” Katara asked as they made their way down the passage, presumably towards the barracks where the Kyoshi warriors were quartered.

 

“Just a broken wrist,” Suki replied. “Nothing life-threatening, but it will keep her out of commission for a while, without a healer.”

 

“That shouldn’t be too hard to fix,” Katara said. They walked in silence for a moment before she spoke again. “We stopped at Kyoshi Island on our way here,” she said carefully.

 

Suki frowned, a harsh expression that looked even starker in the torchlight of the underground tunnels. “Did my mother kick you out as well?” she asked.

 

“We weren’t welcome,” Katara confirmed. She gave Suki a sympathetic look. “For what it’s worth, I think she really does want you to come home.”

 

Suki stopped, and turned to face Katara head-on. “She destroyed the war fans,” she said, pain evident in her voice. “We went back, to recruit new warriors, and she had all our fans destroyed.”

 

Katara reached out and laid a hand on her friend’s arm. She knew the war fans were almost sacred to the Kyoshi warriors. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I didn’t know.”

 

“She says she’s preserving Kyoshi’s legacy,” Suki replied bitterly, “but she’s destroying her symbols…”

 

“In her mind, I think, the village itself is Kyoshi’s most important legacy,” Katara said, trying to offer some comfort. She hated to see such discord between mother and daughter, even if she didn’t agree with Sachiko’s actions. “She thinks she needs to do this to keep her people safe.”

 

“I know she does,” Suki replied, shaking her head. “But I can’t go back there,” she insisted stubbornly. Looking away, she added in a softer voice, “I’m not like you, Katara.”

 

Katara might once have taken offense at such a comment, but she was old enough now to understand that the three years she and Zuko had spent at the South Pole had been a blessing for both of them. And Suki spoke not condescendingly, but in undisguised envy. Nobody wanted to live like this, hiding or fighting at every moment, for years and years. Wars weren’t supposed to go on forever.

 

With the Avatar’s return, hopefully this one wouldn’t.

 

* * *

 

_Ba Sing Se - Ten Years Earlier_

 

Zuko had lingered at the tea shop in the lower ring for three weeks, reluctant to leave his uncle’s side, but at last Iroh convinced him that if he was not going to defend the city, the best course of action was to get out of the way, as he had suggested himself. One week before the comet was due to arrive, he gathered the few possessions he had accumulated since their arrival in the Earth Kingdom capital, and the even fewer he had held on to from before then, and headed for the southeastern city gate.

 

Iroh accompanied him through the crowded, noisy streets, staying close to him. Every so often, in a low, tense voice, he would offer some hurried reminder or piece of advice.

 

“Are you sure you packed enough to eat?” he asked as they turned off of the street where the tea shop was located onto the main road that would lead to the gate.

 

“Yes, Uncle,” Zuko replied. There were many towns along his route, so he would have frequent opportunities to replenish his supplies anyway.

 

“And you have the money I gave you?” Iroh fretted as they stepped out of the way of a heavily-laden cabbage merchant’s cart that trundled past them. Zuko nodded. He could feel the weight of the coin purse snug against his chest within the folds of his tunic.

 

They walked in silence for a while before Iroh spoke again. “Remember to keep up with your meditation, every day.” Zuko couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He wasn’t a child who needed to be reminded of such basic things. Would Uncle be telling him to clean his teeth next?

 

“But don’t let anyone see you,” Iroh cautioned hastily. “If you’re discovered, especially after…”

 

“Uncle, I know,” Zuko interrupted. This was worse than when they had parted ways at the north pole. He tried not to think about why his uncle would be even more anxious now. They drew near to the inner wall that separated the lower ring of the city from the farmlands within the outer wall. Zuko stopped just out of earshot of the earthbenders guarding the gate. “I won’t let anyone find out who I am,” he assured his uncle in a low voice.

 

Iroh looked at him searchingly for a long moment, but finally sighed and reached into his sleeve. He pulled out something small enough to fit inside his closed fist, and pressed the flat, round object into Zuko’s hand. “Take this,” his uncle said quite seriously, “and do not lose it, whatever you do. When this is all over, and it’s safe, I will send one of my friends to find you. This is the sign he will look for.”

 

Zuko looked down at the object in his hand. It was a pai sho tile - the white lotus, his uncle’s lucky game piece. Uncle had carried this exact tile with him for as long as Zuko could remember, with its paint slightly faded and a scratch on one side. It felt like he was being given more than just a covert sign, and that made him uneasy. He didn’t see why all this was necessary. “Why can’t you just come find me yourself?” he asked softly, wincing at the childish whine in his own voice.

 

Iroh reached up and caressed the left side of his face. Zuko flinched, but did not pull away, as his uncle’s fingertips touched his cheek, just at the edge of his scar. “Things are going to be very different,” Iroh said carefully, “and very complicated, if I succeed.” And of course, Zuko knew they would be. If Iroh stopped his father… “But we will be together again, as soon as it is possible,” Iroh reassured him.

 

Zuko nodded, and closed his fist around the lotus tile, as if grasping onto his uncle’s words. He just wanted all of this to be over - wars and invasions and sacred duties and the ache in his heart that had returned when Iroh had told him about his father’s plans for the comet. But it never seemed to matter what he wanted - the world kept spiraling further into madness and there was nothing he could do about it. There was nothing he could do…

 

Iroh’s right hand came to join his left, pressed to either side of Zuko’s face. “There is one more thing that you must promise me, Prince Zuko,” his uncle said. Zuko blinked in surprise at the first use of his title in months, when he least felt like he deserved it. “No matter what happens, you must never forget who you are.”

 

The words were a painful echo of another parting, a cryptic farewell that had turned out to be her last, and they filled Zuko with an even greater sense of foreboding than he had already had. But his uncle was waiting for an answer.

 

“I promise,” Zuko said.

 

Iroh pulled him into a hug, then pushed him away, his hands now gripping Zuko’s upper arms. “Now you must go,” he said. He smiled, but Zuko could tell it was forced. Iroh turned him around to face the city gate, one hand resting on his back. “Be brave, and don’t look back.” He gave Zuko a little push.

 

Zuko walked through the gate, past the bored-looking earthbender guards, out of the city proper and away from his uncle, still gripping the lotus tile tightly in one hand. Obedient to the last, he did not turn around.

 

* * *

 

_Gaoling, South-Western Earth Kingdom - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet_

 

The passageway Sokka led them down brought them to a large chamber with a round stone table in the middle - like every feature of the underground hideout, it looked like it had been fashioned with earthbending. The surface of the table was covered with maps, charts, and other documents. Even though Aang had never seen such a place before, he could tell that this was clearly the war room.

 

Though it was large enough to accommodate a full council, there were only two people occupying the room at that moment. An old man with a long white beard, whose green robe gave him a stately rather than militaristic bearing, was in the midst of some kind of hushed, yet heated disagreement with a young woman, about Katara’s age, who was dressed more plainly. The familial resemblance between the two was obvious - pale green eyes, angular features, and presumably the old man’s white hair had once been the same shade of brown as the woman’s.

 

Sokka interrupted the family dispute. “Goren,” he greeted the elder man with a bow of his head. “Where is the General?”

 

Goren gave the young woman - his daughter, Aang guessed - a look that said their discussion was over, before he answered Sokka. “He’s gone into town, to visit the Bei Fongs for a few days.” The old man shrugged apologetically. “You know we have to keep up appearances.”

 

Zuko looked disappointed at this news, but Sokka was unfazed. “Well, we’ll have to call a council without him,” Sokka replied with a grin. “Zuko’s found the Avatar.”

 

“The Avatar?” Goren asked in amazement. “Where is he?”

 

Aang stepped forward, tugged the blue cloth off his head to reveal his tattoos, and waved. “Hi,” he said brightly. “I’m Aang.”

 

Goren looked at him in confusion for a moment, then turned to Zuko. “A child?” he asked. Aang had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. He really was trying to embrace the whole Avatar thing, but it wasn’t helping that he kept being treated like he was just a kid. He knew he was young, but he wasn’t _that_ young…

 

“Aang is the Avatar,” Zuko was saying. He put his hand on Aang’s shoulder. “He has mastered airbending, and my wife has begun instructing him in waterbending.”

 

Aang could tell that Goren had more questions, but he refrained from asking them. “You are right,” he said to Sokka instead. “This calls for a council, urgently.” He turned to his daughter. “Liu, go find Suki and the others.”

 

“Suki and Katara are seeing to one of her injured warriors,” Zuko supplied. Liu nodded, and left the room with a last stubborn glance at her father. Whatever they had been arguing about, she was not going to let it go.

 

It didn’t take long for the small council to assemble and take their seats around the table. Goren, whom Sokka explained to Aang was the rightful king of Omashu, was apparently the senior member in the absence of the General. How a general could outrank a king was beyond Aang, but nevertheless, Goren presided over the meeting. Liu was also in attendance, along with Suki, who had brought Katara with her. The last two to join them were an earthbender named Hong and Kohnna, the waterbender he had heard so much about. Aang curiously eyed the man who would presumably be continuing his training when Katara left, but saw nothing remarkable about him, good or bad.

 

Goren started by asking about how the Avatar had been discovered and how he had come to the Underground. Zuko and Katara did most of the talking on his behalf, though Aang recounted an abridged version of how he had escaped the massacre of the Air Nomads. Their story so far told, the conversation then shifted to a raid on a Fire Nation outpost south of Omashu that was planned for the following night. It took Aang a moment to catch up, but when he did, he realized Goren was assuming that the Avatar would take part in the raid.

 

“Hold on,” Zuko spoke up, apparently having come to the same realization. “We brought Aang here so you could protect him, not send him to the front lines of the war.”

 

Goren didn’t seem troubled by Zuko’s challenge. “With all due respect,” he said in a tone that implied that was not much, “you are not the boy’s father.”

 

“His safety was entrusted to me,” Zuko argued. Aang slouched a bit in his chair. He understood Zuko took his mission seriously, and he was grateful of course, but he felt that maybe it was time for him to let up. It wasn’t like Zuko and Katara were even going to stick around to keep babysitting him.

 

“Until you delivered him to us,” Goren pointed out. “You have done so, and now your duty is fully discharged.” Aang perked up a bit at hearing the old man agree with him.

 

But Zuko wasn’t swayed. “I do not consider my task accomplished until I can formally hand custody of the Avatar over to the General himself,” he declared. Aang wondered when he had formally been placed in Zuko’s custody - it had all seemed so unofficial to him. “As the General is not here,” Zuko continued, “the boy remains my responsibility.”

 

Goren gave Zuko a pointed look. “Were those the terms given to you by the Council of Elders at the South Pole?” Zuko’s jaw clenched, but he did not answer. Goren turned to Katara. “Were they?” he asked her.

 

“No,” Katara said sadly, with an apologetic look at her husband. “They were not.”

 

“Then as I am in charge in the General’s absence, the Avatar is now my responsibility,” Goren concluded, looking back at Zuko firmly. “Not yours.”

 

Kohnna nodded and finally spoke. “We can not waste his potential,” he said to Zuko, then addressed the council as a whole. “With the Avatar on our side, we could accomplish so much. We could even take back New Ozai, and hold it this time.” Hong muttered a vague agreement while Goren smiled in approval. Katara looked about to protest.

 

“The Avatar can speak for himself, you know,” Aang said at last, cutting off further debate. All eyes turned to him, most in surprise. It was like they had forgotten he was there, even while they argued about him.

 

“And what do you say, Avatar Aang?” Goren asked him. “Are you ready to fight for our cause?”

 

Aang opened his mouth to answer with an enthusiastic _yes_ , but he caught Zuko’s eye. He remembered what Zuko had told him as they had flown away from Zhao’s ship, remembered the sight of burned flesh and the sick feeling of being responsible. _It could have been a lot worse_ , he had said. _You’re not ready._

 

“Not everyone gets the luxury of waiting until they are ready,” Aang replied in lieu of what he had wanted to say. “But with Zhao still out there looking for me, I don’t think you want to advertise that you have Avatar. If you had planned to stage this attack without me, I think you can afford to go ahead with your original plan.” He looked down at the table, avoiding the disappointment he knew would be in Goren’s face. “Besides, I don’t think I’d be much help to you in a fight. Not yet.”

 

“You speak very wisely, for one your age,” Liu said. Aang looked up at her. The princess had kind eyes. “That is a far greater strength for an Avatar to possess than prowess in combat.”

 

“And yet that is what it will take to defeat the Fire Nation,” Kohnna pointed out. He studied Aang carefully. “If you are not ready yet, then your training will be of the utmost importance.”

 

“It will also be a matter for the future,” Sokka said. “The Avatar has made his will known. The raid will continue as planned, without him.”

 

With that, Aang was dismissed from the council. Katara came with him, and showed him to the makeshift kitchens of the underground hideout, so they could both get something to eat. Aang could tell she was proud of his decision, but he just felt tired and anxious, and didn’t want to talk about it any more. After they had eaten, he asked about Appa, and Katara assured him that some of Suki’s warriors had gone to get him.

 

“He hates being underground,” Aang said worriedly.

 

“There are some caves nearby that they use as stables for ostrich horses,” Katara assured him. “Suki said they would bring him there.”

 

“Okay,” Aang said with a nod. Appa could handle caves. Still, it would be strange, being separated from him. He wished they had at least taken Momo with them, though he supposed it would be good for Appa to have a friend amid the strange animals in the stables. “I don’t know if Kohnna will be a good teacher,” he said, abruptly changing the subject. “He seems strict.”

 

Katara gave him a patient look. “You thought I was too strict,” she pointed out. “He’s not so bad. I’m sure you’ll get used to him.”

 

Aang shrugged and blinked his eyes heavily. “I guess,” he tried to say, but it was lost in a yawn, and Katara told him it was time for bed. She showed him to the barracks, and he collapsed onto the nearest bunk, fully clothed. He was vaguely aware of Katara pulling off his boots and laying a blanket over him before he gave himself over completely to sleep.

  



	9. The Dance of Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aang learns more about the Underground as they prepare to raid a Fire Nation outpost.
> 
> In the past, Iroh challenges Ozai as Sozin's comet returns.

**Book I: Water**

 

**Chapter 8: The Dance of Death**

 

_ Gaoling, South-Western Earth Kingdom - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

Aang had no idea if it was early or late when he woke the next morning - being underground was disorienting, and he longed for the open skies and fresh air. But most of the other bunks in the barracks were empty, so he figured it was past time to get up. He sat up and stretched. A thin mattress on a stone bunk was no match for a fluffy bison tail. He hoped he’d get a chance to go to the stables Katara had told him about and see Appa at some point today.

 

When he made his was to the mess hall, he found only a few people were there, further confirming his suspicions that he’d overslept. Sokka was the only person he recognized, sitting by himself at the end of one long stone table with a pot of tea, a bowl of congee, and several papers spread out before him. Aang went over to join him.

 

“More poetry?” Aang asked, nodding at the papers on the table.

 

Sokka looked up at him with a friendly smile. “I wish,” he said. “This time it’s dispatches, to the other resistance groups.”

 

Aang sat down across the table from Sokka, his interest piqued. “I figured there had to be more than just you guys here,” he said, then hastily added, “Not that your operation isn’t, um, impressive and all…”

 

Sokka laughed. “It’s okay,” he said. “I know we’re not a formal army or anything.” He gathered up the papers and set them aside, then cracked his knuckles on each hand. “There’s been no real organized structure since the Earth King died. The generals and nobles who are left do their own thing, for the most part. Those who still bother to do anything, that is. I’ve been trying to get them to communicate more.” He shook his head. “But listen to me, boring you with this stuff, when what you really want is breakfast.”

 

Aang would have protested that he wasn’t bored by it at all, but his stomach chose that moment to grumble audibly, and he had to admit that breakfast sounded good. Sokka reached for the pot and poured Aang some tea. Aang thought it was odd that he’d had a second cup waiting, when he had been sitting alone, but Sokka pushed both the tea and the bowl of congee towards him.

 

“That’s for you,” Sokka said. “I made it myself. The cook always forgets, and puts meat in it.”

 

Aang accepted the food gratefully. “Do you not eat meat?” he asked curiously. That seemed unusual for someone from the Water Tribes.

 

“I haven’t in years,” Sokka replied, leaning forward on the table and tugging at his beard with one hand. “It keeps my connection to the spirit world sharp.” He gave a short laugh. “Also drives my sister nuts, but that’s only a happy side-effect.”

 

Aang took a sip of his tea. “Where is Katara anyway?” he asked. “And Zuko?” He knew they had other things to do besides take care of him now that they were here, but he had still expected to see at least one of them this morning...

 

“Goren wanted to pick Zuko’s brain some more,” Sokka said. Aang got the impression that he didn’t quite see eye-to-eye with the resistance’s second in command. He wondered if Sokka got along better with the elusive General. “I think Katara’s talking to Kohnna about your training,” Sokka went on, “but she said to let you sleep in.”

 

Aang nodded, and ate in silence for a while. It wasn’t that he had nothing to say. Sokka was such a strange person, and the adults had talked about so many things that Aang didn’t understand -  if anything, he had too many questions to know where to start. Finally, he settled on something that had been bothering him since they first had met Sokka the previous day. “You said that Katara and Zuko had every reason to stay away,” he began, pushing what was left of his congee around in the bowl with his spoon. “What did you mean by that? Are they in some kind of danger here?”

 

“The same danger we’re all in,” Sokka replied casually. Aang figured that meant from the Fire Nation. “But that’s reason enough, given why they left in the first place.”

 

Aang looked up at Sokka in confusion. “Why did they leave? Katara just said they went back to the south pole after they got married.”

 

“Well, it wasn’t right after,” Sokka said. Aang stared at him blankly, not understanding. “They went back home because of their son,” Sokka finally explained, as if it should have been obvious. And Aang realized, to his embarrassment, that it really should have been.

 

“That’s why they want to go back now,” he said softly. “For Arvik.”

 

He pushed the bowl away from him, appetite gone, and turned sideways on the bench, drawing his knees up and hiding his face. Of course they had gone home to raise their son in peace and safety. That was what they had been doing, until he had showed up, wasn’t it? And of course that was what they wanted to go back to. Aang felt like the most selfish person in the world. 

 

Here he had been, feeling sorry for himself because Katara and Zuko were leaving him, when all this time he’d been relying on their protection and their guidance and their hugs and reassurances, Arvik had been deprived of them. He’d gotten Zuko hurt, on Zhao’s ship...he could have gotten him killed, and then Arvik would have grown up without a father, and it would have been all his fault.

 

He heard Sokka stand up and come around the end of the table, and looked up to see him straddling the bench in front of him. “Hey,” Sokka said, grasping Aang by the shoulders, “you can’t beat yourself up over this. You’re worth protecting, you know.”

 

Aang hugged his knees closer to his chest. “I know,” he said pitifully. “Believe me, I know how important being the Avatar is. I just...don’t think I’ve done such a great job, so far.” He squeezed his eyes shut again. “Everyone’s taking all these risks for me, and I haven’t even been grateful! All I’ve done is mess up one way or another! I haven’t done anything to deserve it…”

 

“You’re right,” Sokka said.

 

Aang opened his eyes in surprise. “What?”

 

Sokka dropped his hands from Aang’s shoulders and shrugged. “You haven’t done anything to deserve it,” he agreed in a flippant tone. “In fact, you never will. It’s just not possible.”

 

“Is this supposed to make me feel better?” Aang asked irritably. “Because it’s really not…”

 

“Aang,” Sokka said more seriously. “None of us earn what the spirits give us. If we are born benders or nonbenders, peasants or kings, or even the Avatar - it’s not something we choose or something we deserve. It’s just who we are.”

 

Aang frowned. “You’re making it sound like nothing we do matters.”

 

“Oh no,” Sokka replied. “Our choices matter a great deal. But there are things beyond our control, that we just have to accept.” His gaze drifted away from Aang’s face, to a point somewhere over his shoulder. “In your case,” he said in a distant voice, “the lengths people will go to for you because you are the Avatar is one of those things.”

 

Aang still didn’t really feel better, but he could begin to see the wisdom in Sokka’s words. There were so many things about being the Avatar that terrified him, but it wasn’t like he could just...be somebody else, as tempting as that might sound sometimes. It was the same thing Katara’s grandmother had tried to tell him, back at the south pole. Apparently, in some things, he was a slow learner after all.

 

Sokka shook himself out of whatever daze he had drifted into, and gave Aang an encouraging tap on the side of his arm with his closed fist. “Now, finish your breakfast,” he said. “You’re not coming on the raid tonight, but I think you should be there for the briefing, and that starts soon.”

 

Aang obeyed, though he still didn’t feel much like eating. It would be a shame to waste food. “Are you going on the raid?” he asked after he had swallowed the last bite.

 

“Sure am,” Sokka replied. “I planned the whole thing. Well, with some help from the General.” He stood up, collecting Aang’s empty bowl, the teacups and the pot. “Get those for me?” he asked, nodding to the stack of papers. Aang eagerly complied, glad to feel useful.

 

“I thought you were some kind of guru, or a shaman or something,” Aang commented as Sokka led him towards the kitchen to deposit the dirty dishes. “Since the spirits talk to you.”

 

Sokka raised and lowered one shoulder. “Or something,” he said noncommittally. “Being a shaman takes training, and I don’t have that. The spirits just...tell me things, sometimes, and I do my best to listen.” They reached the kitchens, and Sokka deposited the breakfast things in the large washbasin. The young man who was on cleaning duty looked up from the stone countertop he was wiping down with an annoyed sigh. Sokka gave him a broad smile and a salute. “Thanks!” he said brightly, then ushered Aang out into the corridor.

 

“Have the spirits talked to you all your life?” Aang asked as he followed Sokka towards wherever this briefing was supposed to take place. He hadn’t quite figured out the full layout of the Underground’s hideout yet.

 

“Far from it,” Sokka replied, holding out a hand for his papers. Aang handed them over, and Sokka folded the entire stack and tucked in under one arm. “I had an...encounter, a few years ago. There are certain times, and certain places, where the veil between this world and the spirit world is quite thin.”

 

“Like Avatar Roku’s temple at the solstice,” Aang said.

 

Sokka nodded. “Exactly. Well, I wandered into one such place at one such time, totally unprepared. Changed everything.”

 

“Wait,” Aang said, halting in his tracks. Sokka stopped walking as well, and gave him a patient look. “Are you saying you got to the spirit world by being in the wrong place at the wrong time?” He knew of elder monks at the air temples who had seen the spirit world, but it had taken them years of discipline and meditation to achieve that…

 

“I don’t know,” Sokka said with another nonchalant shrug. “I’d say I was in the right place at the right time. It wasn’t something I chose or earned. It was just...given.”

 

Aang stared at Sokka, feeling like he understood him less and less by the minute. “So let me get this straight. You’re some kind of seer, that the spirits chose to speak to, and you live like a hermit so you can hear what they have to say, but you also make battle plans and go on raids and fight with the resistance?”

 

“Yep,” Sokka confirmed. “Sounds about right.”

 

“Katara wasn’t kidding when she called you a warrior monk,” Aang said, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t get it. How are you both?”

 

Sokka sighed. “The spirit world is not only peace and harmony, Aang. Even the spirits go to war, when they have cause.” He continued walking down the corridor, and Aang hurried after him. Sokka half-turned over his shoulder, but did not slow his pace. “They have had much cause, lately,” he added in a low voice. “That’s why we need the Avatar, to restore the balance.”

 

Aang didn’t have to ask what cause the spirits could have, what could make them so angry they would declare war. He’d learned enough about what had happened in the past century to have a pretty good idea. As always, it came back to the Fire Nation, to what Ozai had done. And as always, it was his responsibility.

 

* * *

 

_ Ba Sing Se - Ten Years Earlier _

 

When Zuko had finally left the city, secretly, and selfishly, Iroh had been relieved. If his nephew had not quite lived up to all his expectations of the man he knew he could be, at least he was out of harm’s way. Zuko was still so young, still just a boy, really. There would be time, later, for the growth and healing he needed. It was better for him not to have to see this, if he wasn’t ready.

 

It was easier for Iroh to do what he needed to do, as well, knowing Zuko was safe.

 

The White Lotus had done what they could to move people out of the warpath, but with the Earth King still sequestered away by the Dai Li, and Long Feng refusing to work with them, any substantial evacuation of the capital city was impossible. This only made Iroh’s task all the more crucial. Ba Sing Se must not fall.

 

The morning of the comet’s passage dawned with a fiery red sky that did not fade as the sun climbed higher. Iroh could feel the energy in the dry summer air as he climbed to the top of the city’s outer wall. It almost took a conscious effort not to bend, to keep the fire from his breath and his hands, until the time was right. From his position on the ramparts, in the distance, he could see Ozai’s airship approaching, its golden phoenix figurehead glinting in the harsh red light as it led the invasion force.

 

With a deep breath, Iroh focused the comet’s power and let it escape from him at last in powerful jets of fire from his hands and feet. He propelled himself into the air, rocketing towards Ozai’s flagship. He landed nimbly at the prow of the ship’s outer deck, falling into a crouch to absorb the shock of the impact, and looked up to see his brother for the first time in years.

 

Ozai was arrayed in heavy crimson robes, with an elaborate red and gold helmet in place of the Fire Lord’s crown. He looked merely annoyed to see Iroh. He also looked, Iroh couldn’t help but think, completely ridiculous, like a child playing dress up in clothes that were too big for him. He supposed some part of him would always see Ozai as that too-serious little boy, even if he was deadly serious now.

 

“Brother,” Ozai said as Iroh got to his feet. “Come to get in my way one last time?”

 

“I have tolerated much from you, Ozai,” Iroh replied, raising his hands in a challenge. “This time you go too far, and I must stop you.”

 

“And Zuko?” Ozai asked with a sneer, as he threw off his heavy outer cloak. “Has the boy finally done something sensible and abandoned you?”

 

“You may one day find,” Iroh said calmly, “that Zuko is a far better man than either of us. But that is not what is at stake here.” He took a single, decisive step forward, pleased to see Ozai react with an involuntary step back. “Do you accept my challenge?”

 

Ozai responded with a growl and a blast of fire. It was a powerful opening strike, augmented by the comet’s energy, but a sloppy one. He was unbalanced by his anger, just as Iroh had hoped he would be, and Iroh was able to block his first several blows easily.

 

But when Iroh struck back with his own enhanced fire, Ozai dodged, fell back for a moment, and recollected himself. Iroh had only managed to dislodge the ridiculous helmet. His brother was too well-trained to succumb to such amateur mistakes for long, and too powerful to be overcome with simple tricks. Their duel raged on, brother against brother, each meeting the other blow for blow, as the airship maintained its course, drawing ever closer to Ba Sing Se.

 

As they approached the city, Iroh succeeded in knocking Ozai over the railing of the ship. But his brother recovered, using the same trick of firebending for propulsion that Iroh had used earlier. Iroh followed suit, launching himself of the side of the ship, and for a moment they flung flames at each other in midair, before they touched down on the ramparts of the outermost city wall and their fight continued. Stones shook and crumbled as stray blasts of fire hit them, and Iroh realized if he did not stop his brother soon, the city might well be destroyed by the fallout of this duel.

 

Vaguely, Iroh wondered why Ozai had not conjured any lightning - it should have been even easier, under the comet - but then, Iroh himself hadn’t tried it, either. With the comet’s power coursing through him, it was more natural to let the fire flow in its most basic form.

 

From down below them, on the inner side of the wall, Iroh suddenly heard a voice that he would have known anywhere. It was the voice of a man who had as much right as he did to challenge Ozai. The voice of a boy who should have been far away from this fight. He looked down, and charging up the stairs leading up to the ramparts, already most of the way there, he saw Zuko. His nephew had come back.

 

Whether Ozai didn’t notice him, or didn’t care, Zuko’s appearance was not the distraction for him that it was for Iroh. The momentary lapse was all the advantage Ozai needed. Blue energy sparked at his fingertips at last, and the lighting was upon him before Iroh could intercept it.

 

He fell hard against the crumbling ramparts of the wall. The pain in his chest was excruciating, and he knew he had failed. He heard Zuko scream, and saw him running the rest of the way towards them. Ozai’s hands crackled with energy again, and Iroh desperately reached out with one hand in a futile gesture to stop him. His brother wasn’t even going to spare any final words for his own son. He was going to kill him like it was nothing…

 

The last thing Iroh saw was Zuko catching the full blast of lightning with his right hand. It looked like he was struggling to control the energy at first, but then he sent it arcing back towards its source. It hit the stone somewhere by Ozai’s feet, and the wall shuddered and collapsed. After that, there was only darkness.

 

* * *

 

_ Gaoling, South-Western Earth Kingdom - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

Lagora came to the Underground’s hideout that evening, and she insisted on a “Water Tribe reunion” now that Katara was there. She dragged Katara to a storeroom off the kitchens, where they found Kohnna playing cards with Atial and Mekkino. Sokka joined them shortly after, with Senorit in tow, both carrying glass bottles of something red.

 

“Aren’t you going on a raid in a few hours?” Katara asked, eyeing the bottles suspiciously.

 

Sokka rolled his eyes. “It’s fruit juice,  _ Mom _ ,” he shot back. “Totally non-alcoholic.” He sat down on the floor in between Kohnna and Mekkino, leaning against a stack of large bags of rice. Fiddling with the collection of knick-knacks hanging from his neck, he found one with a corkscrew and set about opening one of the bottles.

 

“You’re sure it’s not cactus juice, right?” Kohnna asked, rearranging the cards in his hand. “We don’t need a repeat of that.” He plucked one card out and threw it down on the pile in the middle. Atial and Mekkino both groaned.

 

“I’ll have you know,” Sokka said loftily, “that it was a very enlightening experience.” He worked the cork free and took a swig straight from the bottle. “But this is just, berries or something.” He passed the bottle to Mekkino.

 

“Or something,” Mekkino echoed, unimpressed, but he took a drink and shrugged. “It’s really sweet,” he said, and played a card of his own.

 

Katara sat down next to Atial, across from Kohnna, and Lagora sat down on Katara’s other side, with her brother Senorit between her and Kohnna. “So we won’t get drunk, we’ll just get cavities,” Katara said wryly. Atial played a card with a triumphant grin, and Kohnna and Mekkino both threw down their hands in frustration.

 

“You always win,” Mekkino complained.

 

“Keep whining, little brother,” Atial replied. “And pay up.”

 

Mekkino tossed a few copper coins at his brother - the stakes on their card came had not been very high, evidently - and Kohnna reluctantly handed over some petty change as well. “Wow,” Lagora deadpanned. “You guys really know how to have a good time.”

 

“We’re all adults now,” Senorit said, nudging his sister with his elbow. “Adults are boring.”

 

“I don’t remember any of the adults back home hiding in a glorified closet drinking fruit juice,” Katara joked as the bottle made its way to her. She took a cautious sip. It really was very sweet, too much so for her taste. It would probably leave them all feeling even thirstier. She passed the bottle to Lagora without drinking any more.

 

“But how are things back home?” Atial asked eagerly. The others all perked up at the question, and Katara smiled, knowing this was what they had all been dying to hear from her.

 

“Your boy is learning how to make canoes now,” Katara said, nodding at Atial. “Pamuk is teaching him. He’s quite tall for his age, too.” Atial listened with rapt attention to every detail. His son Vanook had only been a baby when he had left, and was now eight years old. Katara couldn’t even imagine being away from Arvik for that long…

 

She told lots of stories about Vanook, and Senorit’s son Nikko, who was the same age, and a waterbender. Amaruk had begun teaching him the first form that year. Senorit beamed when Katara mentioned that. “Takes after his mother,” he said proudly. Katara laughed, for while Nikko was a waterbender like Yanor, in appearance he was all his father, with the same round face and dark brown eyes Senorit and Lagora shared.

 

“What about your little boy?” Lagora asked her. “Is he waterbending yet?”

 

“Not yet,” Katara said fondly. “He’s still too little.”

 

“And when he does start bending,” Senorit said, “it’s just as likely to be fire as water.” Mekkino threw back his head and laughed at that. Katara shot him a glare. She didn’t see why it was so funny.

 

“Of course,” Sokka said pointedly, “he might not be a bender at all. Nothing wrong with that.”

 

“Yeah, if you like fighting with sharp sticks,” Kohnna teased.

 

“At least we don’t fight by splashing people,” Mekkino shot back.

 

“Now, now, boys,” Lagora chided. “We know you’re all big, strong warriors. No need to feel insecure.”

 

“What about Nivi?” Katara asked, changing the subject. “Is she still working with the refugees by Chameleon Bay?”

 

“Oh yeah, she is,” Atial replied. “She’s married to one of the soldiers there, didn’t you know?”

 

Kohnna shook his head. “She and Zuko had already left when we got the news,” he reminded the other warrior. To Katara, he added, “Nivi’s got a little girl, too, about the same age as Arvik, I think.”

 

“Good for her,” Katara said. It was nice to hear some good news about one of her friends. But she caught the flash of disapproval in Lagora’s eyes. The younger woman said nothing, though, so Katara let it slide. Mekkino made a joke about betrothing Nivi’s daughter to Katara’s son, and the conversation devolved into humorous matchmaking suggestions for all the children. Really, the warriors could be worse than the old ladies sometimes…

 

Eventually, Lagora had to leave to return to the town, and the warriors had to prepare for that night’s raid. As their little gathering broke up, Katara hung back with Sokka for a moment.

 

“What about you?” she asked as her brother got to his feet. “Are you getting married any time soon?”

 

To her surprise, Sokka grimaced. “It’s complicated,” he said evasively, fiddling with one of the charms around his neck.

 

“Because of your...spirit thing?” Katara guessed. Sokka had never been the same since he’d started having visions, or whatever it was he saw. She’d never understood, but the spirits had been the reason for everything inexplicable about her brother for years now.

 

Sokka shrugged one shoulder. “Well, that’s part of it,” he replied. “Some of the things they’ve shown me...but there are other reasons, too.” Katara waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t. She gave an exasperated sigh. Before the visions, he’d never been this cryptic. Sokka smiled apologetically and threw an arm around her shoulders. “Like I said, it’s complicated.”

 

Katara leaned into the hug. “It seems like everything is, these days.”

 

As Sokka left to join the other warriors, Katara went looking for Aang and Zuko. Ty Lee told her Zuko had taken the boy to the stables, to visit Appa, so she spent some time catching up with the unlikely Kyoshi warrior instead. Of course, now that her wrist was healed, Ty Lee wanted to work out together, and as Katara watched some of the nimble cartwheels and somersaults that she could pull off as effortlessly as ever, she had to remind herself that Ty Lee had not given birth at any point in the last three years. All things considered, Katara was in excellent shape herself.

 

Zuko and Aang returned ridiculously late, in her opinion. Aang merely looked at her with innocent eyes. “Appa and I had a lot to talk about,” he insisted, and Zuko nodded as if this were a perfectly sensible explanation. They made sure Aang had dinner, then sent him to bed with the promise of early waterbending training in the morning.

 

She and Zuko probably should have gone to bed as well, but they didn’t. Most of the resistance was still awake, waiting on the return of the raiding party. They came back just before dawn, in subdued triumph. The raid had been a success - the Fire Nation outpost was destroyed, valuable weapons had been captured, and enemy soldiers had been killed. But they had lost one of their own as well.

 

Kohnna was dead.

 

* * *

 

_ Ba Sing Se - Ten Years Earlier _

 

Zuko wasn’t even sure what had made him come back.

 

He had journeyed for four days away from the city, heading southeast towards Chameleon Bay as he and his uncle had planned. There he would wait for the comet to pass, and wait for his uncle’s messenger. The white lotus tile remained safely tucked in his right sleeve, just where Iroh had always kept it on him.

 

But each day that he had traveled, he had felt his pace slowing gradually. Once Iroh had declared his intention to stay in Ba Sing Se, Zuko had never wanted to leave him, no matter how foolish he thought his uncle’s plan, and how little he wanted any part of it. He had hated the thought of wandering the Earth Kingdom alone, and the reality of it was proving just as terrible as he had feared. When morning dawned on the fifth day since he had left the city, with the comet due to arrive in just three more days, without even thinking about it, Zuko set out walking with renewed haste. He barely even registered that his feet were carrying him back north, instead of further south. Only one thing was clear to him: he never should have left Iroh behind.

 

Even at his more hurried pace, it had taken him longer than he would have liked to retrace his steps. By the time he had approached the city gates, the skies were red, and people were starting to flee the capital before the oncoming Fire Nation invasion. More than one person had called him crazy as he pushed his way through the crowd in the opposite direction. Maybe he was.

 

It wasn’t hard to find his uncle. Massive jets of flame flashed atop the outer city walls to the west, signaling his location. As he ran towards the fire, Zuko realized that where his uncle was, he would inevitably find his father as well. What would he do? What would he say? He had no answers. He only knew he had to get to them.

 

He cut through fields of grain, tall stalks almost ready for the fall harvest which were already starting to burn in places from stray blasts of fire. He ran through the flames as well when they were in his path, not even bothering to put them out. He found the narrow stairway leading up to the ramparts and dashed up it. Finally, he drew near enough to make out the two figures atop the wall clearly. Uncle Iroh fought more ferociously than Zuko had ever seen him, looking every bit worthy of the moniker Dragon of the West. But Ozai met him blow for blow... 

 

Without thinking, on pure instinct, Zuko called out desperately to his father. He only wanted them to stop fighting. If Father would just listen to him, if he could explain… And yet Ozai paid him no heed, too intent on the fight to notice him. 

 

But Iroh heard, and turned at the sound of his voice. He was too far away to make eye contact, but Zuko knew his uncle had seen him.

 

All Ozai had seen was an opening. Lightning flashed from his father’s hands, and struck Iroh square in the chest. In his moment of distraction, Iroh was unable to make any move to defend himself. He fell, and did not rise.

 

Zuko screamed again, an inarticulate denial, as he ran the rest of the way up the stairs, towards the top of the ramparts, towards his uncle - and towards his father as well, who did not hesitate, but summoned the lightning to his hands once more.

 

Zuko had begged his uncle to shoot lightning at him, once, desperate for the chance to prove himself. Iroh had refused, out of fear for his safety. His father, it seemed, had no such concern for him. He never had.

 

Still running, Zuko threw out his right hand to catch the lightning. It struck his palm painfully, and he fought the energy at first, sending it spiraling around his arm before he remembered Iroh’s instruction and let it take the path it wanted. Through his arm to the shoulder,  _ then _ direct it down to the stomach, up to the other shoulder, and let it out through his left arm…

 

He didn’t have the presence of mind to aim the bolt as he let it fly, and it struck the wall close to his father’s feet. Already damaged by Ozai and Iroh’s fire, the wall shuddered and collapsed out from under them. Zuko only just saw the expression on his father’s face as it did. Ozai looked at him with pure contempt.

 

The next thing he was aware of was coming to buried under the rubble. He pushed the stones off of himself with some difficulty - his right arm seared with pain where the poorly redirected lightning bolt had left its mark. His sleeve had been burned away as well, revealing the angry red welt. He shouted for his father, then for his uncle, but no one answered him. The great city of Ba Sing Se was nothing but a smoldering ruin. Ozai was gone, and Iroh was dead.

 

He pulled his uncle’s body from the rubble, coughing as he choked on the thick smoke that filled the air. Sweat dripped from his brow into his eyes as he worked in the sweltering heat. His father had really left them like this, like broken stones in the vanquished city, not worthy of any further consideration… He put out as much of the lingering fire around them as he could, trying to clear the air. He wished he could bring Uncle Iroh to someplace nicer, but he was too heavy for him to move very far.

 

A massive slab of stone from the fallen wall served as the funeral pyre for the great General who had once nearly taken Ba Sing Se, and who had died defending it in vain. Iroh had lost his own son here. Perhaps there was something fitting about this. Zuko hoped they were together now.

 

He had no urn to collect the ashes. He watched them blow away in the wind, instead. Vaguely, he remembered reading somewhere that this was what the Air Nomads had done with their dead. At least his uncle was getting a proper funeral by someone’s traditions...

 

Zuko didn’t know what had made him come back, but he knew now that he should never have left in the first place. This was all his fault.

 

* * *

 

_ Gaoling, South-Western Earth Kingdom - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

General Kwon returned to the Underground’s hideout just in time for Kohnna’s funeral. They could not risk bringing the body to the water, so he was buried in the ground, after the custom of the Earth Kingdom. An unmarked grave in the forest would be his final resting place. 

 

Katara wept honest tears as Sokka said the funeral prayers for the man who had, after all, been a friend to her. But selfishly, when they returned to the catacombs of the Underground’s hideout, her heart was even heavier at the hushed discussion of who would bring word to Kohnna’s family at the South Pole. She knew it would not be her. Now that Kohnna was dead, she couldn’t go home. She would have to stay here, with Aang, to continue his training.

 

Katara and Zuko had been quartered in one of the small private rooms meant for the officers, and that was where she retreated from the somber gathering that followed the burial. Unsurprisingly, Zuko joined her not long after. He lay down next to her, and she rested her head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart as he gently worked her hair out of its braid, then ran his hand through the loose locks.

 

“Last time we were here,” Katara said softly, “I didn’t want to leave.”

 

Zuko’s hand came to rest on the back of her head. “And now you want to, but you can’t.”

 

Katara nodded, her cheek rubbing against the fabric of his shirt. “I’m not like Suki,” she admitted. “At least, not anymore. If I had the choice to give this up, I would. When I was younger, I was so eager to claim my right to be a warrior. But now…” She squeezed her eyes shut. “All I want is to be at home with my baby.”

 

She felt Zuko’s thumb tracing small circles against her scalp. “That’s not…” he said, then swallowed and started again. “This war isn’t normal, Katara. What it does to us, to our families...it’s not  _ natural _ .” His arms tightened around her. “You’d have to be mad to  _ want _ this.”

 

And maybe she had been a little bit mad in her younger years, Katara realized. Mad with her secret anger and resentment, filled with pride and the foolhardy zeal of youth. Maybe they had both been, and they could only see clearly now.

 

Katara opened her eyes and shifted to rest her chin on Zuko’s chest instead, so she could look up at his face. “You know that you don’t have to stay, just because I do,” she pointed out. “Goren is right - your duty has been discharged. And the General will let you go, if you ask.”

 

Zuko sighed and combed his left hand through her hair again. “I’m not going to ask,” he said. He brought his right hand up to her face, cupping her cheek. “My first duty is to you. Always.”

 

He spoke as if this were the simplest thing in the world, as if there were no question of a husband’s obligation to his wife and any man would do the same. It still amazed her sometimes, Zuko’s capacity to know what was good and honorable and to act on it without reservation. There were many who had had every advantage that he had been denied, who would struggle with the choice between the right thing and the easy thing. Katara knew that not every man was so steadfast.

 

Of course, there were other promises Zuko had made as well, to other people. And she knew he meant to keep those promises, too, as best as he could.

 

She turned her head and pressed a kiss to the center of his palm, right where the lightning scar began. “I think your uncle would be very proud of you,” she whispered.

 

There were still questions to be answered and plans to be made, but all that could wait, for a little while. They were together, and would face it together, and for now that was enough.


	10. The Shape of the Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko and Katara make plans for their next move to help the Underground.
> 
> In the past, Azula has complicated relationships with both her parents.

**Book I: Water**

 

**Chapter 9: The Shape of the Future**

 

_ Gaoling, South-Western Earth Kingdom - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

The week after Kohnna’s funeral, it was decided that Sokka would be the one to return to the South Pole. He would inform the tribe of both Kohnna and Uquino’s deaths, as well as Hakoda’s capture, but he could also tell them that Zuko and Katara had made it safely to the Underground with the Avatar. Katara would accompany him as far as the nearby harbor town of Heikou, where he would find passage south aboard a merchant ship. Then she would return to Gaoling to continue Aang’s instruction in waterbending.

 

The weather was pleasant as they made their journey on foot, but the mood was still rather sedate. It was more bad news than good that Sokka had to deliver, and they both knew Katara would rather be going in his place. They spoke quietly of home, and what had changed since Sokka had been there last, and Katara told him all about her son, whom he would be meeting for the first time. She and Zuko had bought a copper whistle and a painted toy dragon at the market in Gaoling, which Sokka would bring to Arvik as birthday presents. 

 

They reached Heikou around midday, and found a ship headed south. When it was time for Katara to leave him at the docks, she hugged Sokka for a long time, as if trying to pour into the embrace all the love she felt for Arvik, so that Sokka could bring that to him as well. But she knew that would be a futile gesture - she could hold on to her brother for the rest of time, and it wouldn’t make things right.

 

“Safe travels,” Katara said as she let him go.

 

“Don’t worry,” Sokka replied, squeezing both her hands reassuringly. “We’ll see each other again soon enough.” He sounded so certain.

 

“Did another water spirit tell you that?” Katara joked.

 

“An air spirit, actually,” Sokka replied with a straight face. “The water spirits usually know where you are, but it’s the air spirits who are best at seeing the future.” It might have been sarcasm, or it might have been the truth - Katara found it hard to tell now.

 

“You’re branching out into other elements,” she commented, unsure how else to respond to her brother’s talk of spirits other than with teasing.

 

Sokka shrugged. “The elements aren’t as separate as most people think. You know that.”

 

Katara shook her head, struck once again by how much wiser he sounded. “You’re so different,” she finally said aloud. “You’re all...serious and ascetic. What happened to Sokka the meat-and-sarcasm guy?”

 

Sokka laughed. “You know, sometimes I miss him, too,” he said wistfully. “But I’m not the only one who’s changed.”

 

Katara wanted to deny it, but she knew he was right. All her priorities had shifted since she had left the Underground. She didn’t want the same things anymore, and in some ways it still felt like giving up - except the simple things she wanted now seemed even more unattainable.

 

“We both grew up,” Katara agreed. “And the whole world is different now.” Really, the world had been changing rapidly ever since the war began, and it was only in the last few years that Katara had been aware that it was still changing, perhaps even more rapidly than before. And in her own life at least, not all the changes were for the worse.

 

One of the ship’s crew appeared at the top of the gangplank. “Hey, Guru,” he called down to Sokka. “We’re shoving off soon, you coming or what?”

 

“I told you, I’m not a guru!” Sokka called back. 

 

The sailor shrugged. “Well, whatever you are, hurry it up.”

 

Katara gave her brother one last hug, and Sokka invoked the blessing of the moon and ocean spirits upon her. Then he boarded the ship. Katara watched the ship make her way out of the harbor until they pulled in the oars and unfurled the sails. Then she turned and left the docks to begin the journey back to Gaoling on her own.

 

As she reflected on their parting, she began to wish she had asked Sokka if his spirits had told him anything about when she and Zuko might see their son again. But some part of her was also glad she hadn’t, for fear of the answer. If Sokka’s mysterious melancholy was anything to go by, it might be better not to know what the future held. Without that certain knowledge, she could still hope for the best.

 

* * *

 

_ Fire Nation Capital - Ten Years Earlier _

 

It was a far smaller crowd that gathered for her coronation than there had been for her father’s. Most of the army was too busy burning the Earth Kingdom to the ground to attend. But Azula still reveled in her moment of glory. The chief Fire Sage secured the golden flame of Agni in her hair, and anointed her hands with the sacred oil that made her fire burn dark red as she lit the ceremonial flame. This flame would be taken to the great temple which stood at the opposite end of a long avenue leading away from the palace. There it would be preserved as long as her reign lasted. 

 

Her subjects bowed as she was proclaimed Fire Lord. They hailed her three times, wishing her long life. They cheered as she lifted her flaming hands in a gesture of benediction. The last of the oil burned away, and her fire faded from red back to blue. It was almost perfect.

 

Almost, because there was still one little dangling thread she had been unable to resolve before her triumph - the nuisance that was her brother. She had failed at Kozei, not through any fault of her own, of course, but it had been a failure nonetheless. And she had not managed to find him again after that, before her father had ordered her to return home. He wanted her in the capital when Sozin’s comet returned, to take her throne on the day of the Fire Nation’s final victory.

 

That meant Zuko was still out there, somewhere, alive and a disgrace to the royal family. Azula had no doubt he would turn up again like a bad copper piece, to cause problems. It was the only thing he was really good at. She couldn’t help but wonder, if her father shouldn’t have just killed him when their grandfather had told him to. How different things would be now. She wondered what her mother would have done…

 

At least this way, Azula might still get the satisfaction of getting rid of Zuko herself someday.

 

News reached the capital early the next day that the Phoenix King’s campaign had been a success, not that Azula had ever doubted it would be. Ba Sing Se was nothing but a smouldering ruin, the Earth Kingdom was crushed, and her father was returning home a conquering hero.

 

Azula met her father at the spire of the great temple, which had recently been retrofitted to allow airships to dock. The sages had grumbled about this, but Ozai had not let that stand in the way of progress. It was Agni’s blessings that made the Fire Nation the most technologically superior country in the world. Surely he would not begrudge them this.

 

The Phoenix King descended from his ship, all gold and scarlet, his face barely visible beneath the ornate helm he wore. The guards and attendants who formed her retinue knelt before him, but Azula merely bowed from the waist. The Fire Lord knelt to no one.

 

“Fire Lord Azula,” her father greeted her formally. She couldn’t help but smile in satisfaction at the title. “We trust there were no difficulties in our absence?”

 

“None, Father,” Azula replied. Ozai nodded and walked past her, heading for the stairs down to the ground level of the temple. Azula fell into step beside him, her retinue and his trailing behind. “Your victory over the Earth Kingdom went unchallenged, I take it?”

 

“There was no significant opposition,” Ozai said. He kept his gaze fixed straight ahead, so Azula could not see his face under the helm, but he sounded displeased. She took that to mean that no significant opposition was still more than he would have liked. But as long as they had won in the end, what did it matter?

 

“Were there surviving generals?” Azula asked, eager to hear the details. “Did they offer a formal surrender?” It would be more satisfying to simply crush them, but a surrender would do better to break the spirits of the people of the Earth Kingdom. They were less likely to attempt any uprising if they believed their leaders had given up.

 

“We will discuss this later,” Ozai said curtly, and Azula reluctantly let the matter drop. They descended the rest of the stairs in silence. As they passed through the temple, where her coronation fire burned next to his, Ozai ignored the Fire Sages who bowed low before them, heading straight outside. The brilliant sunlight gleamed on the gold ornamentation of his formal robes, and the waiting crowds burst into cheers to greet their victorious king. Ozai paid them no attention either as he settled into the larger of the two palanquins that were waiting there.

 

Azula took her seat in the smaller palanquin, and took the opportunity to meditate with a small flame in her hands as they made their way in procession to the palace. She did regret having missed out on the great battle that secured their nation’s complete supremacy over the world. But surely she would hear all about it soon enough, and in the future there would still be a need to secure their empire. She would still have opportunities to show the world what she was capable of.

 

When the pomp and ceremony of their return to the palace was finally over, Ozai ushered her into the private receiving room off of the throne room, where the Fire Lord held more personal audiences. In theory, both this room and the throne room should be hers now, but the Phoenix King was a title without precedent. Azula supposed they would have to work that out.

 

Ozai removed his helm at last and set in on the desk. It was heavy, and made a resolute  _ thud _ against the laquered wood. Ozai rolled his neck, clearly relieved to be free of its weight. It was strange for Azula to see him without crown or topknot, his hair actually mussed by the helm. “That does still need some work,” he admitted with a vague gesture at the royal burden in question.

 

“So what happened in Ba Sing Se?” Azula asked impatiently. “Was the entire Council of Five wiped out, or did they surrender? Did you take prisoners?”

 

“Your uncle was there,” Ozai replied with a grimace, still not answering her questions. “He tried to stop me, but he failed.” 

 

Azula didn’t have to ask what failure meant. It didn’t particularly bother her to learn that Uncle Iroh was dead, just as Lu Ten’s death had failed to move her. Neither of them had ever paid much attention to her, preferring to coddle her brother instead. But the fact that Iroh had been in Ba Sing Se did raise another interesting question.

 

“Was Zuko there with him?” Azula asked, as her father walked around to the other side of the desk and sat down. Clearly they were still on his territory, as far as he was concerned.

 

“Yes,” Ozai said. Azula couldn’t tell if he was angry about this, or regretful, or merely tired. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise to him, that even in his disgrace Zuko would find a way to disappoint once again. It irked her, how her father always seemed to be disappointed, every time.

 

“Did you kill him, too?” Azula asked casually.

 

“Don’t concern yourself with that,” Ozai answered dismissively. Azula took his evasion to mean he hadn’t. So he had failed at that, just like she had. Interesting.

 

“What should I concern myself with, in your opinion?” she asked, letting just a hint of a challenge color her voice, as she leaned on the desk with both hands and stared down at him.

 

Ozai looked up at her, unfazed by her boldness. “Doing what I tell you, naturally.”

 

If she were less in control of herself, Azula would have scorched the desk. Instead, she maintained her calm façade, both dutiful and uncompromising. “And what will that be?” she pressed.

 

“To start with,” Ozai replied, folding his hands on the desk in front of him, “you will kneel when you greet me in the future.”

 

“The Fire Lord does not kneel,” Azula insisted. He had said it often enough since his own coronation, whenever the Fire Sages had tried to subject him to this or that antiquated ritual. She would be no less assertive.

 

“But this is a new age, and before the Phoenix King, every knee must bend,” Ozai countered. Azula could see he was claiming still more ground. “You must not question me in public, either,” her father went on. “You are Fire Lord, but you are not my equal. Is that understood?”

 

Azula took the lecture in stride, as she was used to doing. She excelled when he wanted her to excel and demurred when he wanted her to demure. That was how it had always been. She had hoped things would be different, in this new age, but now she saw she would have longer still to wait.

 

“Yes, Father,” she replied patiently. 

 

* * *

 

_ Gaoling, South-Western Earth Kingdom - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

They spent the next four weeks with the Underground. The lower levels of the current hideout included a training room that opened onto a natural spring, where Katara would take Aang for waterbending lessons. The boy finally seemed to be taking his training seriously, and his progress was even more rapid. She started him on sparring - sometimes with her, sometimes with Zuko. Katara couldn’t help thinking of her own years of training, when Amaruk would have her and Kohnna face off against each other. It was still strange to think that he was gone.

 

The resistance conducted more raids, which sometimes Zuko would participate in, but they made no major gains. Their targets had to be carefully selected - remote military bases, convoys through deserted areas - so that retribution wouldn’t fall on the town. The outpost they had destroyed was soon rebuilt, and fortified more heavily than before. 

 

Just when Katara was beginning to wonder if they were really making any difference, General Kwon asked for a private meeting with her and Zuko. He had an office of sorts, an alcove off of the war room that was large enough for a desk and a few chairs - all fashioned with earthbending, of course - and that was where they met him. He was studying a map as they came in, stroking his dark, neatly-trimmed beard in concentration.

 

“You wanted to see us, General?” Zuko prompted. With a tired smile, Kwon set down the map, which Katara noticed showed the disputed region to the north of the mountains. Fire Nation strongholds were marked with little red triangles, and safe havens with green circles. There were far more of the former and fewer of the latter than she remembered.

 

“Yes,” Kwon replied, waving a hand for them to sit down. “I’ve been thinking about what the Avatar’s arrival means for us in practical terms, in the immediate future.”

 

“He’s becoming a skilled waterbender,” Katara said carefully. “But he’s still a child.”

 

“I know,” Kwon agreed. “Zuko has certainly told me as much, repeatedly, as if it weren’t obvious.” His tone was teasing, but light, and Zuko shrugged. “What is also obvious,” Kwon continued, “is that Aang is nonetheless eager to do something in his role as the Avatar. And for that, I think I may have a diplomatic solution.”

 

Katara exchanged a confused glance with Zuko, but they said nothing, waiting for Kwon to elaborate.

 

“Ever since the burning,” the General said, smoothing out the map with both hands, “those of us who have continued to fight have struggled to persuade others to join our cause. Many have simply given up the restoration of balance as hopeless.” He looked at Katara. “The Northern Water Tribe, for example, has refused to send us any assistance. And…” Here he tapped an area on the map free of both red and green symbols. “There are others even closer to us who remain stubbornly neutral.”

 

Zuko was studying the area on the map that Kwon had indicated. “That’s the Foggy Swamp,” he observed. Katara looked carefully at the map and saw he was correct. Neither of them had ever been into the swamp themselves, but Sokka had told them stories…

 

“You mean the waterbenders who live there,” Katara concluded. “You think Aang can convince them to help us?”

 

“I think proof of the Avatar’s return changes everything,” Kwon declared. “The mere fact that the boy is alive, in spite of all odds, makes our prospects look less bleak. And yes, I do think that may persuade some of the more reluctant to fight for our cause.”

 

“So you want us to bring Aang into the swamp,” Zuko reasoned.

 

Kwon nodded in agreement. “And all the way to the North Pole, if you can.”

 

Katara exchanged another glance with Zuko. It would be a risky venture. Safe passage through the swamp was no guarantee, and beyond that lay colonized territory. And if they were going to reach the Northern Water Tribe, they would have to cross the burned lands, which held dangers of their own, more terrifying than Fire Nation soldiers. But if they stayed, and the resistance continued as it was…

 

“We are losing ground,” Kwon finished her thought. “Slowly, so that most don’t even realize it yet, but we are losing. If help does not come, it’s only a matter of time.” He sighed, sitting back in his chair and folding his hands on the desk. “That boy is our last hope.”

 

Zuko’s shoulders slumped, and Katara knew Kwon had won him over just as he had her. Probably even more easily, actually. “So we’re setting out with Aang again,” Zuko said tiredly, “on another dangerous quest, for the sake of the world.”

 

Kwon gave Zuko a sympathetic look. “There’s no one I’d trust more with the boy’s safety than you and Katara,” he said. “And at this point, I think you feel the same way.”

 

Once they were all in agreement about undertaking the mission, the conversation turned to logistics. Kwon had already worked out what he thought would be the best route for them to take, but he wanted their input as well. He handed Zuko a writing tablet and a reed pen with a wistful smile. “Here,” he said, “somebody should take notes.” Zuko gave a rueful laugh and accepted the writing implements, jotting down the landmarks and waypoints the three of them agreed on.

 

When they found Aang in the stables with Appa afterwards and informed him of their new quest, the boy nearly hit the ceiling with excitement. Seeking out isolated tribes of waterbenders appealed to his sense of adventure, it seemed.

 

“I bet the swamp tribe has a totally different bending style,” Aang speculated. “Maybe we could learn it together, Katara! That’d be so cool!”

 

“It would be interesting,” Katara admitted. But it was the Northern Water Tribe that she was more curious about. She’d heard many stories about them over the years, and couldn’t help but wonder how they would measure up to reality. Personally, she also felt the northerners were more likely to help them. They had sent the delegation to the south, after all, just before the comet had come.

 

“It’s a good idea,” Zuko agreed. “But remember, Aang, our goal is more than just learning new bending techniques. The General is sending us on this mission to convince these people to join the war effort.”

 

Aang leaned back against Appa’s flank, burying his hands in the bison’s thick fur. “Right,” he said dully, “it’s always about the war effort.”

 

Katara exchanged a glance with Zuko. “Yeah,” she agreed. “Unfortunately, it is.”

 

* * *

 

_ Fire Nation Capital - Sixteen Years Earlier _

 

“It’s time you and I had a talk.”

 

Azula reluctantly followed her mother as she dragged her out of Zuko’s room, knowing this was not going to be a pleasant conversation. She was expecting to be brought to her own room, where she would probably end up being confined when their talk was through, but to her surprise she was led to her mother’s rooms instead.

 

Ursa dismissed her attendants and seated Azula on one of the low sofas in the sitting area of her apartment. Azula glanced around the room with furtive curiosity. She and Zuko used to play in here sometimes, when they were younger. She remembered sitting on this sofa with the whole family, her mother leaning against her father’s shoulder with Zuko under one arm, while Azula herself was curled in her father’s lap as he read a story to them.

 

But Azula hadn’t been in this room in what felt like ages.

 

“What nonsense were you frightening your brother with this time?” Ursa asked sternly, interrupting Azula’s reminiscing.

 

Azula frowned. “It wasn’t nonsense,” she insisted, crossing her arms and refusing to look at her mother. “I was just telling him the truth.” And she had been. This time.

 

“And what truth was that?” Her mother did not sound impressed.

 

Azula squeezed her hands into fists, still staring stubbornly at the floor a few feet away, where the red carpet gave way to the dark wooden floorboards. “I don’t want to tell you,” she said primly. “You’re just going to be mad at me, like Zuko was, and accuse me of lying.”

 

Ursa sighed and came closer, kneeling in front of the sofa so she was in Azula’s line of sight. Azula attempted to turn her head away, but her mother caught her chin with one hand and forced her to look at her. “If you tell me the truth,” she said gently, “I promise I won’t be mad at you.”

 

Azula hesitated. There was no hint of anger or malice in her mother’s amber eyes. She really did look like she just wanted to know - probably because she was worried about Zuko. There were so many reasons to worry about him. Well, let her have one more, if she really wanted it.

 

“Grandfather told Dad he has to kill Zuko,” she said in a flat voice.

 

Her mother’s grip tightened on her face and Azula winced as she gasped. “What?” Ursa said sharply. “Why would he do that?”

 

“Dad asked Grandfather to make him the heir instead of Uncle Iroh, and Grandfather said it was disrespectful and he needed to suffer for it,” Azula said in a rush.

 

Ursa let go of her chin, and grasped Azula by both shoulders instead. “If you’re telling stories, young lady, this is not funny,” she warned.

 

“I’m not!” Azula insisted. “It’s the truth! And you promised you wouldn’t be mad at me!”

 

“I’m not mad at you,” her mother replied, but she still sounded angry. “How do you even know about this?”

 

“I hid behind the curtains in the throne room,” Azula said in a small voice. Her mother stared at her, appraising her answer. “You don’t believe me!” Azula accused. “You think I’m a liar! Well, you’ll see, when Dad kills Zuko! Then you’ll know I was telling the truth!”

 

“If you heard the Fire Lord say those things,” Ursa said in the same fierce tone, ignoring Azula’s outburst, “why wouldn’t you come tell me straight away?”

 

“Maybe because I knew you wouldn’t believe me!” Azula shouted, blinking furiously. She was  _ not _ going to cry about this like some baby, just because Zuko was going to die and no one would listen to her…

 

Her mother pulled her into a hug. Azula hid her face against her shoulder and still refused to cry. “Listen to me, Azula,” Ursa said carefully. “I am not punishing you. But this is a very frightening situation, and I want you to stay in your room for the rest of the evening, until bedtime.” She held Azula at arms’ length. “Do you understand? I don’t want you to worry about anything else, but you must stay in your room.”

 

Azula nodded. “Good girl,” her mother said, but the words rang hollow. Her mother said lots of things she didn’t really mean - that she wasn’t mad, that Azula wasn’t being punished, that she shouldn’t worry. Why should Azula take any comfort from her false assurances? She knew what her mother really thought of her.

 

Ursa led Azula back to her own room, gave her a kiss on the forehead, and shut her in. Azula thought about throwing herself on her bed in frustration, but that was the sort of thing Zuko would do, pointless and melodramatic. She opted to practice her firebending forms instead.

 

“I don’t even care,” she muttered, shooting a small plume of fire from her fist. “I don’t care!” she repeated, more forcefully, producing a larger flame. “I don’t!” she shouted, and her fire came dangerously close to catching her bed curtains.

 

“You’re not supposed to be firebending in here,” came her father’s voice from the doorway.

 

Azula spun around in surprise, but didn’t apologize. “Dad,” she said, wondering if he knew why she’d been confined to her room, “what are…”

 

“You’ve been eavesdropping,” Ozai cut her off. Well, that answered her question. Now he was mad at her, too. Fantastic.

 

“You told me I should be paying attention to how the Fire Lord runs his court,” she said, not even bothering with the innocent tone she would have affected for anyone else.

 

“That is not what I meant,” her father scolded.

 

Azula studied him carefully. He didn’t look nearly as upset as her mother had. Even his displeasure with her seemed perfunctory. “Are you really going to kill Zuko?” she asked boldly.

 

“Don’t concern yourself with that,” Ozai replied. “And save your firebending for the training rooms. While you’re in here, perhaps you can work on your other studies. I know your tutor gave you a scroll on the reign of Fire Lord Raiden to read.”

 

Azula tried to hide her disappointment with the evasive answer, or at least let her father think it was just because Fire Lord Raiden was boring. “Alright,” she agreed, dutifully heading over to her desk and finding the scroll in question. Ozai gave her no platitudes, but he nodded in approval before he left.

 

Azula did read the scroll, and even finished it by the time a servant brought her dinner. After she ate, she changed into her nightclothes, ran through her firebending forms one more time - without actually bending - and then went to bed, for lack of anything better to do.

 

But she had trouble getting to sleep. She kept thinking about what Grandfather had said, how she’d gone back and forth over whether she thought her father would actually go through with it, and how he hadn’t told her one way or another. But she was sure her mother would try to talk him out of it. Mom always came to Zuko’s rescue.

 

Eventually she drifted off, and if she dreamed at all she didn’t remember it when she woke again in the early hours just before dawn. Everything was still and silent, and there was a strange energy in the air. Azula felt that something important must have happened while she slept. Maybe Zuko really was dead, just like Lu Ten.

 

She bolted from her bed and scrambled to the door in her bare feet. Opening the door just a crack, she peeked out into the corridor just in time to see a dark figure slip into Zuko’s room. Heart pounding in anticipation, Azula crept silently down the corridor as well, stopping just outside her brother’s door, which had been left open. She heard voices coming from inside the room, and realized the dark figure had been her mother.

 

Azula couldn’t make out the words her mother was saying to Zuko, but she could hear the urgency in her voice. Whatever she had to tell him, it was something very important.

 

She hurried away as her mother left Zuko’s room a minute later, keeping to the shadows and trying to be as quiet as she could. Ursa headed down the corridor, towards Azula’s room, and Azula’s heart jumped when she realized her mother would catch her out of bed and know she had been eavesdropping again. She had just been scolded for doing this…

 

Ursa stopped in front of Azula’s door. For a moment, Azula considered stepping out from her hiding place and owning up to what she had been doing. Her mother was deathly serious about something, and it would be better to come forward with honor than to be caught skulking.

 

But Ursa sighed, and continued down the corridor without going into Azula’s room. Her secrets were only for Zuko, it seemed. Azula wasn’t worth her time.

 

She watched her mother disappear into the darkness.

 

* * *

 

_ Gaoling, South-Western Earth Kingdom - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

The night before they were to set out, Lagora came to the Underground’s hideout again to deliver some medicines she had prepared, as well as a message for the General from Lord Gaozu’s partisans in the eastern Earth Kingdom. Katara could barely follow the subtleties of the ongoing power struggle between Goren and Gaozu, but it seemed to her a disheartening waste of time, and she knew Sokka felt similarly. General Kwon, however, was perpetually trying to smooth things over between the rivals.

 

But Lagora had little interest in discussing Earth Kingdom politics with Katara when they were alone in the training room. She’d agreed to do a few waterbending drills before she left - Lagora would never be a warrior, but Katara had talked her into learning at least basic self-defense - and was pleased when Katara told her about their upcoming mission to recruit more waterbenders.

 

“There were more people who wanted to come with us to the south, you know,” she told Katara as the two of them went through the first form in unison. “Chief Arnook didn’t want the delegation to be too big, but he said that he might send another in the future, if the south agreed.” They finished the form, and Lagora stretched one arm over her chest, then the other. “That was before the comet, of course,” she said regretfully.

 

“I can’t believe they’re still refusing to help at all,” Katara said, as she laced her fingers and stretched her arms over her head.

 

Lagora sighed, letting her arms drop. “It’s so risky crossing the burned lands, we’ve only sent one messenger,” she explained. “And the north was isolated for so long, I guess it was easy for people to fall back into that way of thinking. What Ozai did to the Earth Kingdom must have terrified them.”

 

“It terrified everyone,” Katara retorted, her hands falling to her hips. “That’s why all the nations should be trying to do something about it.”

 

Lagora gave her a patient look. “I’m not the one you have to convince,” she said. “But don’t tell me you can’t understand why they’d be reluctant.”

 

Of course she understood. Katara had as much reason as anyone to want to stay out of the war. “But I wouldn’t hide away in an ice fortress like that when there were people who needed me,” she insisted. She was here, doing what needed to be done, no matter how much she wished it could be otherwise.

 

Lagora laughed. “Maybe don’t put it to Chief Arnook that way,” she suggested. “You’re trying to get on his good side.”

 

“I feel like that’s going to be an uphill battle,” Katara admitted, fidgeting with the strap of one of her waterskins. She had no doubt they would welcome the Avatar with all due respect, but she was less certain how they’d receive her, female warrior, erstwhile student of Amaruk, and wife of a firebender. And that wasn’t even getting into the old scandal with her grandparents…

 

“Pakku might try to give you a hard time,” Lagora conceded. “But if he does, you can kick his ass, I’m sure. And then you can commiserate over how much you both hate Amaruk.”

 

Katara rolled her eyes at the mention of her old waterbending instructor. “They made him leader of the delegation just to get rid of him, didn’t they?”

 

“Probably,” Lagora agreed. “Which means they owe us now.” She snapped her fingers, as if she’d just had a brilliant idea. “Bring that up, if you have to.”

 

Katara laughed at the irony of using Amaruk as a bargaining chip. He would probably approve, even. Anything that got them the help they needed would be fine by him, no matter how ignoble.

 

“Any other helpful suggestions?” Katara asked dryly. “Anyone in particular you want us to bring back, maybe as a suitor for you?” She gave her friend a teasing smile. “Or is there an Earth Kingdom soldier who’s caught your fancy, too?”

 

But Lagora wasn’t amused. “No,” she said shortly, the playful tone of their conversation suddenly icy.

 

Katara hesitated before she spoke again. “Is there something wrong with Nivi’s husband?” she finally asked. “Nobody else seemed bothered by her marriage.”

 

Lagora shook her head. “It’s not him, specifically. It’s just…” She shrugged and looked around the empty training room, but apparently found nothing to distract from the conversation. “She was supposed to marry Mekkino.”

 

“Oh,” Katara said. “I didn’t know they were betrothed.” Nivi had never worn a necklace, and as far as Katara knew, Mekkino hadn’t even courted her. Had there been some ill-fated whirlwind romance Katara had missed?

 

“It wasn’t formal,” Lagora clarified. “But when we first left, before the comet, it was understood. We were chosen not just to help rebuild the south, but to help repopulate as well.”

 

“You mean they had already...paired you off?” Katara asked in disbelief. Nivi was barely older than her. “Before you were even of age?”

 

“Of course,” Lagora replied, giving Katara that same old look of surprise at how little she knew of the north. Some things didn’t change. “That’s pretty common in the north, anyway. It’s not binding or anything, but families make arrangements.”

 

That did make sense, with what little Katara did know about marriage customs in their sister tribe. But if the arrangements weren’t even binding in the north, Nivi couldn’t possibly be held to it in the south. “Mekkino didn’t seem heartbroken about it,” Katara pointed out. “What’s the big deal?”

 

“She married out of the tribe,” Lagora said, sounding frustrated, as if she thought it should have been obvious that this was a problem.

 

Katara frowned and crossed her arms defensively. “So did I.”

 

“That’s different,” Lagora said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Zuko’s an exile, he basically has no nation anymore.” Katara would have argued, but Lagora went on before she could. “You probably knew Shi Xin when you were at the refugee camp with Nivi, so you tell me: Is there any chance of him moving to the South Pole?”

 

Katara turned the name over in her mind, trying to remember the soldiers from the camp. Shi Xin was a tall earthbender, practical even to a fault. Nivi had always liked him. “Probably not,” Katara admitted. “He’s a true Earth Kingdom patriot.”

 

“Exactly,” Lagora said, hiding her resentment even less than she had up until then. “She’s never going back home. Her daughter will be Earth Kingdom, not Water Tribe.”

 

“Okay, I see your point,” Katara said. That had never been an issue for her and Zuko. There was no question of raising Arvik in the Fire Nation. When they had talked of having children, there had never been any debate that they would grow up at the South Pole. But that was them. “Isn’t that Nivi’s choice, though?”

 

“Yes, it is,” Lagora scoffed. “But it has consequences for all of us.”

 

She and Katara stared each other down for a moment, before Katara decided to drop the subject. Trying to change Lagora’s mind when she felt strongly about something was like getting water from a stone. “Alright,” Katara said, “so no handsome Earth Kingdom soldier for you.” But returning to the question of Lagora’s marriage prospects piqued Katara’s curiosity. “Who was your, um, intended, then?”

 

“Pamuk,” Lagora replied, with neither enthusiasm nor displeasure.

 

Katara thought about the warrior who had remained at the South Pole, the reserved middle child between the haughty Ikino, who was always doing Amaruk’s bidding, and the gregarious Nivi. She’d always found him a bit dull by comparison. She tried to imagine him married to Lagora, and she couldn’t picture it. “Honestly, that doesn’t sound like your ideal match.”

 

“He’s dependable,” Lagora said, as if that were all that mattered. “We’ll make it work.”

 

“So you’re still set on marrying him?” Katara asked. There weren’t many options, even including the other members of the tribe who were in Gaoling, but there were some. “Even though you don’t have to?”

 

“It’s what’s best for the tribe,” Lagora replied, as Katara probably should have predicted she would. “Nivi may have forgotten that part of our duty, but I haven’t.”

 

Another thought occurred to Katara, which was both unsettling and, in light of recent events, a little sad. “If everyone was intended for someone, was it always the plan for Kohnna…”

 

“Not specifically. We didn’t really know who we’d find in the south. But I think Amaruk at least had that in mind.”

 

Of course Amaruk would have had big plans for his firstborn son, his only waterbending child. Even if Kohnna had never been everything his father had hoped, he had still been the obvious favorite. Katara wondered how Amaruk would take the news of his death. Would even that be enough to thaw the ice in his veins? “Maybe he’ll pay more attention to Kinto now,” she speculated out loud.

 

Lagora seemed to have followed her train of thought. “I’m not sure if that would be a good thing for Kinto,” she said quietly. As a one-time focus of Amaruk’s attention herself, Katara had to agree. Still, it was sad, how little affection Kinto got from his father.

 

“It must be getting late,” Katara said suddenly. That was the trouble of being underground - it was easy to lose track of time. They left the training room and headed towards the Kyoshi warriors’ barracks, where Lagora would be spending the night. They ran into Aang and Senorit in the corridor, heading in the direction they had just come from.

 

“I thought you had gone to bed,” Katara said to Aang. 

 

“Senorit was looking for a sparring partner,” Aang explained enthusiastically. “And I haven’t gotten to use my waterbending much against nonbenders.”

 

“Well, go easy on him,” Lagora said to Aang, throwing a wink at her brother. Aang laughed.

 

“Thanks for the vote of confidence, sis,” Senorit replied. “Don’t worry,” he said to Katara, “I won’t keep him up too late.”

 

“Alright,” Katara agreed. It wasn’t a bad idea for Aang to get some more practice in, and she was always glad to see him happy about something. It was good for the boy to have fun, as much as he could. “But I still expect you to be on time for breakfast tomorrow,” she warned.

 

“Yes, ma’am!” Aang replied with an ironic bow.

 

Lagora shook her head as she and Katara walked away. “You’re still adopting everyone you meet,” she joked.

 

“Don’t exaggerate,” Katara admonished her.

 

“Come on, Katara. You did it to me and Nivi, you did it to your own brother, and now you’re doing it to Aang. The only person who’s ever been able to stop you from acting like his mother is Zuko.” She cocked her head to one side, as if just thinking of something. “Which is probably why you married him,” she concluded.

 

“Wow, that doesn’t make it sound weird at all,” Katara deadpanned.

 

“Just an observation,” Lagora said innocently.

 

“If I’m so motherly towards you,” Katara complained, “shouldn’t you show me a little more respect?”

 

“I guess I was poorly brought up,” Lagora shot back in perfect deadpan.

 

They reached the barracks, and Katara gave her friend a hug. For all her faults, Lagora never thought of herself. Her whole life was centered around doing what she believed was the right thing, for the sake of the tribe. “I think there’s still hope for you,” Katara said before they parted.


	11. The Swamp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aang, Katara, and Zuko head out for the Foggy Swamp to recruit the waterbenders that live there.
> 
> In the past, Zuko doesn't know what to do with himself after the comet.

**Book I: Water**

 

**Chapter 10: The Swamp**

 

_ South-Western Earth Kingdom - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

Zuko, Katara, and Aang left Gaoling the next day. The sky was overcast, threatening rain, and there was a strong wind from the east. It was rough going - a thunderstorm hit them at mid-day, forcing them to find shelter in the mountains for several hours, and everyone was cold and soaked through. Momo had sought refuge under Aang’s shirt, a quivering ball of wet fur. Aang used his now skillful waterbending to dry the lemur, then Appa, and finally himself, and Katara did the same for herself and Zuko.

 

But it was more than the weather that had Katara in melancholy spirits the morning after the storm. The rain had stopped, though the sky was still grey. She and Zuko had both woken before Aang, as was typical, and he knew as well as she did what day it was.

 

“I wonder if Sokka’s reached home by now,” Katara said, almost idly, as she rolled up her sleeping bag, though it wasn’t really Sokka she was thinking of. 

 

Zuko looked up from where he was kneeling by the remains of last night’s campfire, stoking the coals. “I’m sure Arvik will love the dragon,” he replied. She had picked out that gift, while the whistle had been his idea. She was sure Arvik would love both of them, but probably he would like the whistle better. It was loud.

 

Katara sat back on her heels and hugged herself loosely around the middle. “I can’t believe it’s been three years.”

 

Zuko left the campfire, now flickering with low flames, and knelt in front of her. Wordlessly, he reached for her, pulling her close to him so their foreheads rested against each other. They had known this was going to happen, when they had left, that they would miss his birthday. Now, with no clear end to their mission in sight, Katara couldn’t help wondering what else they would miss. How many milestones would Arvik reach without them…

 

A polite cough alerted them that Aang was now awake, and they reluctantly pulled apart. Katara took a deep breath and put on a brave face. Aang would worry, if she looked upset, and she didn’t want to burden him with that. He had more than enough worries of his own, for a boy his age.

 

“How far are we from the swamp?” Aang asked, not looking either of them in the eye.

 

“We should make it there in a few hours,” Zuko replied, looking up at the clouds warily. “If we don’t get caught in another storm.”

 

“When we get to the swamp, it’s very important we stick together,” Katara cautioned as she dug some of the dried fruit they’d brought out of her pack. They had lost time yesterday because of the storm, so it would be better to have a simple breakfast and get an early start today.

 

“Hey,” Aang complained, “have I ever run off on you?”

 

Katara exchanged an unimpressed glance with Zuko. “Yes,” they said in unison.

 

Zuko fixed Aang with a stern look and counted off on his fingers. “You chased after Momo at the air temple, you ran right towards the unagi at Kyoshi, and you wandered off to go shoe shopping in the market in Gaoling.” He looked to Katara. “Am I forgetting anything?”

 

“He didn’t stay put when I told him to, that time with Zhao,” Katara pointed out. “Face it, Aang - you haven’t got the best track record on this.”

 

Aang pouted. Momo leaped down from Appa’s saddle to perch on his shoulder, nuzzling the boy’s cheek as if to cheer him up. It worked. “Okay,” Aang relented, scratching the lemur affectionately behind the ears. “I promise I won’t chase after any animals or wander off for any reason, this time.”

 

“Good,” Zuko said with a nod. “Because from what Sokka has told us about the swamp, it’s a dangerous place. It’s closely bound to the spirit world, so things are not always what they seem in there. It’s easy to get disoriented or lost.”

 

Aang perked up at the mention of the spirit world. “Is this where Sokka…”

 

“Yes,” Katara answered before he could finish. “It’s where he had his first encounter with the spirit world. He says the spirits gave him a glimpse of the future.”

 

“Wow,” Aang said. “What did they show him?”

 

Katara shook her head. “I don’t know. He’s never told anyone.”

 

* * *

 

_ Western Earth Kingdom - Nine Years Earlier _

 

Zuko had nothing, and no one.

 

What few possessions he had brought with him from Ba Sing Se had been lost upon his return, left behind in the ruins of that city, unsalvageable. Even the all-important lotus tile his uncle had given him was gone. He had the ragged green clothes on his back, and nothing more.

 

Thousands of refugees had fled the burned regions with him, swarming south in a seemingly endless procession of desolate humanity. Occasionally someone would share food with him. He’d found a makeshift bandage for his arm somewhere, he couldn’t remember how. If anyone asked, he’d give them the same false name he had been using for months, the same sketchy details of his life. But no one really wanted to hear his story. They all had the same story now.

 

He saw how families would stick together. Wives clung to their husbands, parents didn’t let children out of their sight. But no one was looking out for him. Without his uncle, for the first time in his life, Zuko was truly alone. His failure was now complete.

 

Each day he walked further - not towards Chameleon Bay this time, but veering to the southwest. The train of refugees skirted around the East and West Lakes, rather than brave the Serpent’s Pass. This was land the Fire Nation had effectively controlled, before, but apparently Ozai hadn’t minded if some of his own territory was destroyed by friendly fire. All that was left were ruins of towns and charred fields of grain. Finally, they came to unburnt land - a narrow region of arid grassland north of the Si Wong Desert. Unequipped for crossing the vast sea of sand dunes, they headed further west, towards the Penkou River Valley, hoping to find it unburnt as well.

 

Zuko followed the the flow of the crowd. He didn’t have a destination in mind, but that wasn’t unusual. While some refugees were seeking out friends or relations, most were simply looking to put the ruins of their old lives as far behind them as possible. They would speak of new beginnings in hushed whispers around campfires at night. Hope for a fresh start was what kept them going.

 

Zuko had his own mantras to repeat to himself.  _ Never forget who you are. Never give up without a fight.  _ But sleeping on the bare earth with an empty stomach, it was hard to see what good remembering his identity had done him, and just who or what he was supposed to be fighting was unclear. If there was a new beginning waiting for him somewhere, he had no idea where that might be, or what it could possibly look like.

 

On the first day that truly felt like autumn, with a chill in the air that lingered past the early morning hours, a military caravan crossed their path. An Earth Kingdom general and his retinue were headed east. By the tired look of the footsoldiers, Zuko gathered they were likewise retreating from some defeat. Nevertheless, the general ordered food distributed to the refugees from his own rations. As soldiers and refugees stopped to eat and to gossip, word began to spread that the Fire Nation was laying claim to more territory every day - though apparently now it was called the Fire Empire. Some began to talk of heading back east with the caravan, towards what were still unoccupied territories. Others shrugged and declared the colonies as good a place to look for their fresh start as any.

 

Zuko sat alone with his bowl of rice, weighing his options. In the colonies, he wouldn’t have to hide his firebending, but he was more likely to be recognized, and he had no illusions about what that would mean. A large shadow fell over him. He looked up to see one of the broader, stockier soldiers glaring down at him.

 

“You got a name, yellow-eyes?” the soldier asked in a gruff voice.

 

“Lee,” Zuko replied without even blinking. It wasn’t the first time someone had noticed how unusual his coloring was for an Earth Kingdom peasant, and he doubted it would be the last. He’d found it was best to just act like it was nothing, and most people would assume the same.

 

“Where you from,  _ Lee _ ?” the big soldier pressed, stressing the common name like he very much doubted it was the truth. Which, to be fair, it wasn’t.

 

“Ba Sing Se,” Zuko answered neutrally. “Same as everyone here.”

 

The soldier narrowed his eyes and continued his interrogation. “And before that?”

 

“All over,” Zuko said with a shrug. “My uncle and I moved around a lot.” No sense in lying when the truth would do just as well.

 

The soldier grunted, fingering the warhammer that hung at his hip. “A yellow-eyed loner from nowhere in particular,” he summarized. “You’d better watch yourself - that’s a story only a fool would trust.”

 

“Not even a fool,” Zuko shot back without thinking, “since you clearly don’t.”

 

The soldier growled and raised a fist, but a firm voice halted him in his tracks before Zuko could even react. “That’s enough!” the general ordered, striding towards them. He was a tall man, dressed in travelling clothes without any armor. Only his headpiece and unmistakable command presence testified to his rank.

 

Zuko scrambled to his feet as the soldier bowed. He might be stupid enough to mouth off to an armed infantryman, but he didn’t feel like pressing his luck by disrespecting a general.

 

“Leave the boy alone,” the general admonished the soldier, giving Zuko a once-over glance. “A half-starved teenager is not the enemy we should be fighting, no matter what color his eyes are.”

 

“Yes, General Kwon,” the soldier said begrudgingly. General Kwon dismissed him, and he stalked off, looking, Zuko thought, like he fully intended to cause trouble elsewhere.

 

“Forgive him,” General Kwon said to Zuko. “My men are in bad spirits since the burning. They have seen ugly things.” His eyes lingered for a moment on the left side of Zuko’s face, and Zuko turned his head away, unable to fight the flare of old shame. “But then, so have you,” General Kwon mused sadly.

 

Zuko didn’t trust himself to give an answer to that, and after a moment the general sighed and sat down on the ground, beckoning for Zuko to do the same. “Go on and finish eating,” he instructed. “Spirits know you look like you need it.”

 

As Zuko ate what was left of his portion of rice, General Kwon removed a pear from one of the deep pockets of his robe, and unsheathed a knife from his belt. He cut the fruit in two, offering one half to Zuko on the blade. Gratefully, Zuko accepted it, hesitating when he noticed the inscription on the knife.

 

_ Never give up without a fight _ . His was lost in the ashes of Ba Sing Se, where his uncle had acquired it in the first place, but he supposed it made sense, that other Earth Kingdom generals would have knives just like it. 

 

General Kwon must have seen the recognition in his eyes, but he took a different meaning from it. “You can read?” he asked, mildly surprised. Belatedly, Zuko realized that distinguished him from many of his fellow refugees almost as much as his face did.

 

“Yes,” he replied, hastily adding, “Sir.”

 

The general hummed in consideration as he wiped his knife on his pants leg and returned it to its sheath. He took a bite of his half of the pear, and chewed carefully. Zuko did the same. The fruit was deliciously crisp, and easily the best thing he had tasted since...before the comet, at least. He ate the rest quickly.

 

“I don’t know where you were planning on going,” General Kwon said when he was done. “But if you’re heading our way, I might have work for a man who can read and write.”

 

Zuko studied the general carefully, but he had every appearance of being sincere in his offer. It sounded absurd, the banished prince of the Fire Nation becoming a scribe to an Earth Kingdom general. But then, Zuko’s life had been nothing but absurd, recently. If his own father...well, why shouldn’t he? Didn’t he deserve a chance at a fresh start, like anyone else? Why wouldn’t Lee the refugee take honest work where he could get it?

 

“I would be honored to be of service,” he said. General Kwon nodded, satisfied.

 

* * *

 

_ Foggy Swamp - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

The lingering clouds of the previous days storm had cleared away by the time they reached the swamp that afternoon. The sun shone brightly, and they had flown far enough to the north to be in tropical latitudes. Aang felt pleasantly warm in the clear, still air, and his seat on Appa’s head was snug and cozy. Perhaps that was why he had drifted into a sort of half-doze, not quite asleep, but not fully awake either.

 

“Hey,” came Zuko’s voice sharply from behind him, startling Aang back to full awareness. “I don’t see a good place to land yet.”

 

“Huh?” Aang replied, rubbing his eyes in confusion.

 

“You were taking us down, even though there’s no clearing or anything,” Katara explained. “Didn’t you notice?”

 

“Oh,” was all Aang said. He scanned the dark, foggy terrain below. Sure enough, it was covered with thick vegetation. Appa would have a hard time landing safely anywhere in that. “Should we circle back and enter the swamp on foot?” he suggested, turning back towards the saddle to face his guardians.

 

“I don’t know,” Katara said uneasily. “The swamp looks pretty difficult to navigate, and Sokka said the waterbenders live near the middle of it. It could take us a long time to find them that way.”

 

“It could take us a long time to find them from the air as well,” Zuko pointed out.

 

But before either Aang or Katara could respond, Appa gave a loud groan of fright, and the wind suddenly picked up. Aang turned around to see a massive tornado heading towards them.

 

As a master airbender, Aang knew a thing or two about how tornadoes worked. For one thing, they formed during storms, not on clear and windless days. For another thing, they usually needed flat, open spaces to get very far, not densely forested swamps. But he also knew that pointing all of that out to the twister was not going to do him any good. He on tugged the reins, guiding Appa towards the east and out of the tornado’s path. The bison eagerly complied.

 

The tornado switched directions and followed them. They flew south, and the tornado followed them again. That was extremely unusual.

 

Realizing they weren’t going to outrun the twister, Aang shouted to Zuko and Katara to hold on and formed a swirling ball of wind around Appa, hoping to shield them as the tornado passed over them. But once they were within the funnel cloud, it seemed to stop, as if it wanted to trap them. The winds grew even stronger, and Aang’s arms shook as he struggled to maintain the shield against the growing pressure.

 

Appa bellowed in fear again, and Aang felt the shield collapse. They were flung about by the wind. Aang grabbed wildly for Appa’s reins, his horn, or his saddle, anything to hold on to, but his fingers only closed around air. Next thing he knew, he was hurtling towards the ground. He barely had time to use his airbending to slow his descent before he crashed through vines and tree branches and splashed down in the muddy darkness of the swamp.

 

* * *

 

Zuko got to his feet with some difficulty. The ground was less than solid, as much water as earth. He was covered in the brown muck, which he tried to wipe off as best as he could. Miraculously, though he was definitely sore from his hard landing, it didn’t feel like the fall had done any major damage.

 

But Aang and Katara were nowhere to be seen.

 

He shouted their names several times, but received no answer. The way the winds of that freak tornado had tossed them around, they could have come down almost anywhere. So much for staying together in the swamp. Zuko just hoped they had landed as safely as he had.

 

But he wasn’t about to just stand around waiting. He knew the waterbenders of the Foggy Swamp lived somewhere in the middle, near the largest tree. That had been their objective - if he headed that way, he might cross paths with Aang and Katara, or at least find someone who knew the swamp well enough to help him make a more thorough search. They were in the southern part of the swamp, so heading north should take him in more or less the right direction…

 

Zuko looked up at the thick canopy of vines and branches overhead that all but blotted out the sky and sighed. He could feel the sun getting lower as it got later in the day, but which direction was it? He closed his eyes, focused on his inner fire, and reached for its source, and silently begged Agni to help him.

 

_ There _ . He wasn’t quite sure if he’d actually oriented himself, but a profound feeling was telling him to go  _ that way _ . Some direction was better than none, so Zuko started forward, wincing at the squelching sound his steps made as he waded as much as walked through the mud. Brown swamp water soaked into his clothes, and he really wished Katara were with him. He’d have far more peace of mind searching for one person rather than two.

 

Eventually his path took him to higher, and mercifully dryer ground. But the fog here was thicker, and Zuko could hardly see more than an arm’s length ahead of him. Several times, a dark shape he momentarily took to be a person turned out to be nothing more than a tree or a large rock. Keeping Sokka’s warnings in mind, he grew wary, but saw no alternative but to proceed with caution.

 

Finally, after what felt like hours, he caught a definitive flash of orange out of the corner of his eye. “Aang?” he called out, hurrying towards the bright shape. “Are you alright? Is Katara with you?”

 

But as he drew near, he realized it was not Aang he had found but an old man dressed in the robes of an Air Nomad, wearing a distinctive tasseled necklace. “Gyatso?” he breathed in amazement. “How can you be here? You’re…”

 

“I’m gone,” the old man agreed in a flat voice. “And it’s your fault. The blood of my people is on you, and on all of Sozin’s descendants.”

 

Zuko shook his head and uttered a denial, but it came out sounding weak.

 

“I’m gone, too,” came another voice from his right. Princess Yue stood before him, arrayed in regal splendor, glowing pure and silver against the drab haze, as if its ugliness could not touch her. “And it’s your fault. You were supposed to save me, and you failed.”

 

“It’s your fault I’m gone, Zuko,” said another voice on his left, achingly familiar, though it had been years since he had heard it, and so beautiful, even as she accused him. “It’s always been your fault,” his mother said, her amber eyes full of regret.

 

The ghosts closed in on him, their voices overlapping as they repeated their accusations again and again. Iroh joined their number, his voice adding to the din, one more death on his conscience. Zuko put his hands over his ears in a childish attempt to block out the voices, but they kept coming, louder and faster,  _ It’s your fault! It’s your fault! It’s your fault! _

 

He fell to his knees on the cold ground, and another figure appeared before him, dressed in blue. “It’s your fault he’s gone,” Katara whispered. Zuko looked up at her and prayed for the vision to stop.

 

A jet of fire encircled him, warm and radiant, and burned away the apparitions, silencing the voices at last. Zuko turned to see his rescuer - it was a red dragon. The great and terrible creature looked at him with wise, knowing eyes, then twitched its tail and flew away.

 

“Wait!” Zuko called after it, scrambling to his feet and running as best as he could through the swamp. He had no idea what was happening, but a dragon could not be ignored. “Come back!” He chased the dragon into the fog.

 

* * *

 

The water where Katara landed was deep enough to fully submerge her, and a waterbender in deep water was never in immediate danger. She propelled herself to the surface, found dry ground, and took stock of her surroundings as she bent the dirty water out of her hair and clothes. She was on the bank of a river. Trees grew right up to the edge of the water, and thick vines obscured anything that lay beyond.

 

“Zuko?” she called out. “Aang? Are you there?” They couldn’t be too far away, could they? But there was no answer, at least not from a human voice. She heard several chirping, croaking, and growling sounds that reminded her the swamp was very much full of life, some of which she probably didn’t want to meet face-to-face.

 

She began to make her way along the river, climbing over tree roots and pushing dangling vines out of her way. If she were a Foggy Swamp waterbender, she’d want to build her village near a water source like this one. Hopefully the actual inhabitants of the swamp shared her instincts, and could help her find Aang and Zuko.

 

She came to a place where the river narrowed and the trees leaned out over it. She had to track away from the water to stay on dry ground, and soon found the dense foliage was forcing her further and further in that direction. Sokka had told her the swamp was difficult to navigate, but it began to feel like it was actually guiding her on a specific path, though it wasn’t the one she wanted to be on. Whenever she tried to turn back towards the river, she found the way was blocked by some obstacle. 

 

Just when she was beginning to feel truly lost, Katara heard movement up ahead. She hoped it was Zuko or Aang, but didn’t want to risk calling out to them in case it was someone or something less friendly. Cautiously, she crept towards the sound to investigate.

 

In a misty clearing, she saw a man dressed in blue, with long black hair. He had is back to her, and she almost could have mistaken him for Zuko, except that this man wore a wolf tail adorned with beads, like a true warrior of the Water Tribe. As she watched, he began a waterbending kata, drawing the muddy swamp water from the ground in crystal clear ribbons. A sweeping movement turned him around towards her, and she saw his face.

 

“Arvik,” she said in amazement. Her grown-up son noticed her presence for the first time. She took note of every detail of his face - the angular features and bright gold eyes. He looked so much like Zuko, though his complexion was almost as dark as her own.

 

“Who are you?” he asked, and her heart broke.

 

“Arvik, it’s me,” she said. “Your mother.”

 

“I don’t remember my mother,” he replied in a dull voice, shaking his head. “She left me.”

 

“No,” she protested, reaching for him. “I never wanted to…”

 

“Go away,” he said sharply, stepping back from her outstretched hand so her fingertips just barely missed brushing his sleeve.

 

“Arvik, please,” she pleaded, but he turned and ran from her. Desperately, she followed him into the mist.

 

* * *

 

Aang stared up at the giant root of the tree by which he’d landed. Katara and Zuko were nowhere in sight, nor were Appa and Momo, but there was someone there.

 

The woman was finely dressed in pale green silk embroidered in gold, her dress somehow immaculate even as she stood in the midst of the murky swamp. Her features were delicate, aristocratic, and proud. She held out her hand and dropped something - it drifted down lazily, and Aang leapt to his feet to catch it. It was a small red flower with five petals.

 

“Who are you?” Aang called up to the strange woman.

 

She shook her head. “Not yet, Avatar,” she said firmly. Then she leaped gracefully from the tree root to another, further away.

 

“Hey, wait!” Aang shouted, following her. But no matter how much speed his airbending gave him, she stayed one step ahead of him. “What’s going on?” he cried in frustration as she finally winked out of sight in the fog.

 

No sooner had he spoken than he collided with someone running towards him. It was Zuko, he realized with relief. But his eyes were wild, and he was breathing heavily. “Are you okay?” Aang asked worriedly. “Where’s Katara?”

 

Zuko stared at Aang for a moment, as if coming back to reality. “She’s not with you?” Aang shook his head, just as Katara herself came charging out of the mist towards them. She stopped short, looking just as confused as Zuko had.

 

“Zuko,” she cried, grasping her husband’s hand. “Have you seen…”

 

“Appa and Momo?” Aang finished. They were the only ones missing from their group now. 

 

Katara gave him a strange look. “Right,” she said softly. “Of course.”

 

Zuko shook his head. “No,” he said. “But I thought I saw…”

 

There was an awkward silence. Aang thought of the strange woman, and realized he no longer had the flower she had dropped, though he couldn’t recall when he had lost it. Had Zuko seen her as well?

 

“It’s like Sokka told us,” Katara said softly. “The swamp shows you things.”

 

“So y’all know Sokka then?” came an unknown voice with a gentle drawl. Aang spun around to see a stocky old man in a green loincloth crouched on a tree branch. If this stranger knew who Sokka was, then he must be...

 

“We do!” Aang confirmed excitedly. “Are you one of the waterbenders who live here?”

 

“Sure am,” the old man replied. With a wave of his arm, a thick green vine that had previously been several feet away came to his hand, and he used it to rappel down the tree trunk and join them on the ground. He gave them a friendly smile. “Name’s Huu.”

 

* * *

 

_ Eastern Earth Kingdom - Nine Years Earlier _

 

The winter rains had begun in earnest by the time General Kwon’s army reached its destination - a castle stronghold on the southeastern coast that was home to the late Earth King’s closest surviving cousin, as far as anyone knew, and thus the leader most of the generals now looked to, at least symbolically. Gaozu of Yaosai was a competent but unambitious provincial lord, totally unprepared for the Mandate of the Spirits, and it seemed everyone knew it. It did not help his cause that the late Earth King Kuei had been a hands-off ruler who had left decision making to others. With the Dai Li and the Council of Five wiped out in the burning, the surviving Earth Kingdom elites were all too eager to fill the power vacuum.

 

As General Kwon’s scribe, Zuko was privy to far more of their infighting than he really cared to know about. Kwon himself supported Gaozu’s direct rule, which didn’t surprise Zuko, since Gaozu was married to Kwon’s older sister. But others wanted to recreate the Ba Sing Se system, with Gaozu as little more than a figurehead to keep up morale. It wasn’t clear to anyone who was really in charge, or what the next move should be. But little could be done while the rains fell and the roads were choked with mud, so they would have all winter to sort things out. And Zuko would take notes at meetings, draft the General’s correspondence, and keep his nose out of it. Under his identity as Lee, no one wanted his opinion anyway.

 

He couldn’t really say he enjoyed the work, but the job certainly had its benefits. He was quartered in the castle with the servants, which was a step up from being in the camp with the soldiers. While he still got suspicious looks, valets and kitchen boys were less likely to pick fights with him. Lee’s status as a trusted member of General Kwon’s personal retinue certainly helped in that regard, too.

 

Inexplicably, the General did trust him, and sometimes, Zuko thought, even seemed to like him. He never pressed for details about Lee’s past, but occasionally he would talk about his own family. His older sister Nari had met Lee when they arrived at the castle, but he also had a younger sister who was the wife of a wealthy landowner in Gaoling. His brother had been lost in the destruction of Ba Sing Se. Zuko found himself responding to the General’s kind and easygoing manner by sharing his own stories about Uncle Iroh. It felt good to be able to talk to someone, to complain about his uncle’s habit of frivolous shopping trips or reminisce about his favorite teas. 

 

But he never spoke of his father, or anyone else in his family, for that was far more dangerous territory than he was willing to risk treading. Let the General think Lee was an orphan who had been raised by his uncle. It was a likely enough story.

 

It turned out that Zuko had other worries, however. When he had been living in Ba Sing Se with Iroh, they had always been able to find time for meditation, just the two of them, even if it was only with a single candle, or by the embers in the stove at the end of a long day at the tea shop. But now, Lee almost never had any privacy. He spent most of his time either with the General or with other servants around, and with so many people housed on the estate for the winter, the castle was a bustle of activity at all hours. This made sneaking off somewhere to firebend in the middle of the night a risky venture, especially with the near constant rain effectively keeping him indoors.

 

Yet the longer he went without manipulating his element, the more uncentered he could feel himself becoming. Hearth fires and the flames of oil lamps sang to him - he could feel how they subtly flickered and flared in response to every shift in his mood, and he feared it was only a matter of time before someone else noticed as well. All it would take was one careless moment of anger to give him away, and it wasn’t like he had nothing to be angry about.

 

Eventually, the breaking point came, as it always did, in the worst way possible.

 

Another late-night strategy meeting had descended into bickering and posturing over who should be calling the shots, until Gaozu had exasperatedly suggested they adjourn. He and Kwon had decided to take a walk outdoors to clear their heads - it was still raining, but there was a covered walkway that ran from the castle to the stables, and that would at least let them get some fresh air. Kwon suggested Lee come with them, and he had agreed, in spite of how tired he was. His pent-up fire had him feeling on edge. Hopefully the cool, damp air outside would help.

 

“It’ll be a relief when the rains finally let up,” Gaozu commented as they stepped outside. “The soldiers are getting restless.” He held a glass lantern in one hand, walking side by side with the General. Both wore dark cloaks, and from his position a few steps behind them Zuko could just see their silhouettes in the flickering light as they made their way down the sloping path towards the stables.

 

“They’re not the only ones,” Kwon replied tiredly. “But I’m afraid the spring will bring little improvement unless we can come up with a solid plan of action.” He stopped and turned to the side, gazing out at the icy sheets of water that continued to pour down from the sky. Gaozu halted two paces ahead of him on the path. The lantern swung as he turned. Zuko could feel the flame dance as the light glittered on the raindrops. He kept a safe distance.

 

Gaozu sighed tiredly. “We’re never going to out-scheme the Fire Nation,” he lamented. “They’re too good at destroying whatever they touch.” The flame within the lantern jumped. Zuko took a deep breath, and tamped down on his inner fire. He was  _ not _ going to lose control over something so petty.

 

Kwon was nodding reluctantly in agreement. “It does seem unlikely we’ll completely turn the tide any time soon,” he allowed. “Not without some spectacular advantage like the one they had.” Then he snapped his fingers and looked over his shoulder, towards Zuko. “You wouldn’t happen to know where the Avatar is hiding, would you, Lee?”

 

The flame jumped again as Zuko covered his surge of anger with a shrug. “Sorry, no,” he said shortly. Kwon and Gaozu laughed good-naturedly. They didn’t know, Zuko had to remind himself. The General hadn’t meant anything by it, other than a bit of grim humor.

 

“That’s too bad,” Gaozu said with a wistful smile. “If anyone could give Ozai the beating he deserves, it would be the Avatar.”

 

The flame danced enticingly. Zuko’s own inner fire longed to respond. He needed to find some way to excuse himself from this conversation. He was too tired, too worn out to keep such tight control much longer.

 

“Well unless you know something I don’t,” Kwon was saying to Gaozu, “I don’t think we’ll live to see that happy day.” Somehow the sentiment stung more coming from the General, even though Zuko knew he had every right to resent Ozai. He had lost family in Ba Sing Se. Zuko understood, he really did. And yet…

 

Gaozu had a dark look on his face, all humor gone. It was made all the more ominous in the flickering lantern light. “Maybe we’ll get lucky, and Ozai will be assassinated by one of his own treacherous people,” he mused.

 

The flame in the lantern flared violently, causing the glass to crack and the metal handle to overheat. Gaozu yelped and dropped the lantern in alarm. It shattered on the ground. The oil spilled and caught fire, throwing harsh illumination onto Kwon and Gaozu’s shocked faces as they looked at each other, then at Zuko. And just like that, he knew Lee’s fresh start lay in pieces like the lantern.

 

“You’re…” Kwon began, but Zuko didn’t wait to hear any more. He was Fire Nation. He was their enemy, the son of the man they hated most. He only destroyed whatever he touched. He’d been a fool, to think he would ever have any future here. He ran.

 

Kwon called after him, and Gaozu shouted something at the same time - alerting the guards, no doubt, that there was a firebender on the loose. Zuko spared no backwards glances, just charged ahead through the rain and darkness. He would outrun whoever they sent after him. If there was one thing he knew he was good at by this point, it was running away.

 

* * *

 

_ Foggy Swamp - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

Huu brought them to the village, where they found Appa and Momo. One of the hunters who had found them was still complaining about not being allowed to eat the lemur. “You know what Sokka told us, Due,” his friend admonished him. “We’re not supposed to eat no strange flyin’ critters that come wanderin’ our way. They’s Avatar omens.”

 

Aang was too caught up in his joyful reunion with Appa and Momo to pay attention, but Katara certainly noticed the remark. The Foggy Swamp tribesmen apparently held her brother in high esteem, and Sokka had known the Avatar would be coming here, just like he’d known he was coming to the Underground. She couldn’t help wondering what else Sokka knew that he wasn’t telling her.

 

When Aang explained why they had come, Huu frowned, and Katara had expected him to argue, since even Sokka had been unable to convince the swamp tribe to join the fight up until now. But instead, to their surprise, he bowed his head solemnly and said he and his people would do as the Avatar asked of them. The General had been right about the sway that the Avatar would have. This had seemed to give Aang pause for a moment, but he quickly brightened when Huu offered to teach him how to bend the water within plants.

 

Katara had politely declined a lesson in Foggy Swamp style bending with the other waterbenders, who insisted on calling her “cousin”, and instead she and Zuko had discussed what they had seen, quietly, just between the two of them. But they hadn’t been able to settle on how to interpret them - whether they were warnings, or true glimpses of things to come, or merely illusions.

 

Yet it was Aang who brought up the subject over their late dinner, as they sat around the firepit in the center of the village. “So right before I ran into you,” he said, nodding in Zuko’s direction, “I saw this woman in a really fancy dress. She didn’t look like she belonged in the swamp.” He turned to Huu curiously. “Any idea who she might be?”

 

“Well, I can’t tell you her name or nothin’,” Huu replied. “But she must be somebody important to you. The swamp only shows us what we bring with us. Our regrets, our fears, our hopes. People we love, or people we mourn.”

 

“So it doesn’t show the future?” Katara asked.

 

“Only to a very few,” Huu said, giving her a reassuring smile. “Now, Cousin Katara, don’t you worry. There’s no look of a seer to you.” Katara was relieved to hear that. She didn’t want to think that what she had seen could be real. Huu turned back to Aang. “But you’re the Avatar. The spirits do all sorts of things for you.”

 

“So if I don’t recognize who the woman was,” Aang thought aloud, “then she must be someone I don’t know yet, but will. Someone I’m going to meet soon?”

 

“Maybe,” Huu said. “Did she say anything to you?”

 

Aang shrugged. “All she said was ‘not yet’.”

 

“That sounds like your answer,” Zuko remarked dryly.

 

“Okay,” Aang went on, “then there’s just one more thing I don’t understand. Where did that tornado that brought us down come from?”

 

“Like I said,” Huu replied, a touch of sadness in his voice. “The spirits do all sorts of things. And these last years, they’ve been mighty restless. Figure they must be gettin’ tired of waiting for you.”

 

“You’re right,” Aang said, crestfallen. “They’ve had to wait a long time.”

 

Katara couldn’t help but wish that the spirits, and the world, could wait just a little longer.


	12. The Colonies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko, Katara, and Aang make their first stop in the Fire Nation colonies.
> 
> In the past, Amaruk teaches Katara some things she'd rather not know.

**Book I: Water**

 

**Chapter 11: The Colonies**

 

_ Western Earth Kingdom - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

When Zuko and Katara had planned their journey with General Kwon, there had been some debate about which way they should go after leaving the swamp. Kwon’s route had them traveling north in almost a straight shot, through the Fire Nation colonies and then crossing the burned northern provinces at their narrowest point to reach the north pole as quickly as possible. Zuko and Katara had gone back and forth over whether it might be safer to avoid the colonies, but to do this without going extremely out of their way would take them through at least part of the Si Wong the desert. They would to have to stop for provisions at least once on their journey, and neither the desert nor the burned lands were likely to have much to offer. So Kwon’s wisdom had won out in the end.

 

Their first day of traveling when they finally set out again saw them flying past Omashu in the afternoon. Zuko couldn’t help a wistful glance at the city on the horizon. It looked strangely small and insignificant from their vantage point in the air. 

 

With a start, he realized what the black dots hovering in the air over the city were. “Katara,” he called out in alarm. If they could see the war balloons, the war balloons could see them.

 

“I see them,” Katara replied from where she sat on Appa’s head. She was already tugging on the reins, bringing them into cloud cover. Omashu and its Fire Nation sentinels faded from view. 

 

Zuko leaned on the rim of the saddle and continued to stare at where the city had been visible a moment ago. So much had happened there. It still pained him to think of Omashu being under occupation again.

 

Aang flopped against the side of the saddle next to him. “I know,” he said dejectedly. “I wish we could stop there, too. I used to have so much fun in Omashu with my friend Bumi.”

 

The name caught Katara’s attention. “You had a friend Bumi in Omashu?” she called over her shoulder.

 

“Yeah,” Aang said with a nostalgic smile. “He was the best. Always coming up with crazy ideas, like riding the mail chutes. He was a real mad genius.” Aang sighed. “Of course that was a long time ago. I wonder what ever happened to him…”

 

“He was Goren’s great-uncle,” Zuko answered. “The last king of Omashu.”

 

“You’re sure it’s the same Bumi?” Katara asked, half-turning and leaning back on one hand, as Aang’s mouth dropped open.

 

Zuko nodded.  “He never told you about the mail chutes?” he asked in surprise. “How many mad genius Bumis could have come up with that one?”

 

“You guys knew him?” Aang exclaimed. “That’s crazy!”

 

The three of them wound up trading stories about their eccentric mutual friend as they left Omashu behind them. Aang was genuinely laughing and smiling again as he reminisced, which lifted Katara’s spirits as well, and everyone was in a better mood when they finally landed in a clearing in the woods on the other side of the mountains the next morning. Everyone except Appa, who gave a tired, almost petulant bellow when they dismounted.

 

“I know, I know,” Aang said soothingly, leaning against the side of the bison’s head and stroking his fur. “You’ve been flying a long time, but you can rest now.” Appa let out a great yawn in reply, and lay down with much noise and little grace, which had Momo scurrying away to hide behind Katara.

 

“You know,” Zuko said in a low voice, “I’m starting to think he spoils that bison.”

 

Katara grinned. “Take it up with him, if you want,” she said wryly. “We’re near a mining town, according to the General’s map, so I’m going to go see if I can restock some of our supplies while we have the chance.”

 

Zuko didn’t like the idea of her going alone, but he knew he and Aang would need to keep a low profile during this part of their trip, so he didn’t argue. “Be careful,” he said, pulling her into a hug.

 

“Wait a minute,” Aang protested, “You’re going by yourself? Why can’t we go with you?”

 

“Because we’re in the colonies now,” Katara explained patiently, before she pointed to each of them in turn. “Zuko looks like an exiled Fire Nation prince, and you look like the Avatar, whereas I am nothing but a lowly Water Tribe peasant.” She said the last with a very dry sarcasm.

 

Aang gave her a thoughtful look. “Aren’t you technically an exiled Fire Nation princess, too?”

 

Zuko tried to disguise a laugh as a cough while Katara rolled her eyes. “I don’t  _ look _ like one,” she clarified. “That’s the point. No one will give me a second glance.”

 

With a final assurance that she would be back by midday, Katara set off through the trees in the direction of the town. Opening their packs, Zuko pulled out everyone’s change of clothes, which still smelled vaguely of swamp, and their soap. “I saw a stream over there when we landed,” he told Aang, pointing to the west. “We should do some laundry while we’re here.”

 

Aang didn’t look thrilled by the idea at first, but he soon brightened. “Can I waterbend the clothes dry?” he asked eagerly. Zuko had no idea why, but Aang seemed to really like that particular trick.

 

“Sure,” Zuko allowed, tossing the boy his own balled up dirty clothes. “But you’re still helping me wash, too.”

 

Aang pouted. “Fine.”

 

The stream wasn’t far, and thankfully the water was clear. In spite of the faces he had pulled earlier, Aang did his part without complaining, though Zuko did have to remind him to fold the clothes once they were clean and dry. After a careful sniff of his own tunic, Zuko decided they had better wash the clothes they were wearing, too, while they had the chance. He pulled both the tunic and his undershirt over his head, then reached over and plucked at Aang’s sleeve. “Come on, this too.”

 

Aang imitated his sniff test. “I think it’s fine,” he protested.

 

“After flying through the night? No way,” Zuko argued. “We always wake up smelling like bison when we do that.”

 

“Maybe I like that bison smell,” Aang argued.

 

“You can take those clothes off and wash them,” Zuko replied, “or you can get dunked in the water clothes and all.”

 

Aang grinned. “You’ll have to catch me first.”

 

That was how their morning of chores turned into a morning of Zuko chasing Aang around the forest and play-sparring. In the end somehow both of them ended up in the water, and while all the clothes were eventually cleaned, it was much later in the day than Zuko had anticipated when they finally made it back to the clearing where Appa was still sleeping.

 

“Huh,” Aang said, taking in the quiet clearing. Momo was also napping on top of Appa’s head, and everything was just as they’d left it. “I’m surprised Katara’s not back yet.”

 

Zuko shrugged, trying not to worry prematurely. The sun was just reaching its highest point for the day. She wasn’t unreasonably late. It could be any number of benign things that had held her up.

 

Or, it could be something much worse, a traitorous voice in the back of his mind whispered.

 

Aang, for his part, didn’t seem concerned. He curled up next to Appa’s flank, not caring that they had just washed the bison smell out of their clothes, and dozed off, leaving Zuko to fret on his own.

 

“She’s fine,” he muttered to himself as he fixed lunch from their remaining food stores. “She’s better at the whole undercover thing than you are, she can take care of herself.” But as the minutes wore on in agonizing silence and Katara still failed to reappear, he was not much reassured. By the time he woke Aang up from his nap to make sure the boy ate, Zuko was growing seriously concerned.

 

“I’m going after her,” he announced as Aang finished his meal. He opened his pack and pulled out his rain poncho - if he kept the hood up, his scar would be less noticeable. Fortunately, the sky was growing overcast again, so it wouldn’t look odd for him to be going about in rain gear.

 

Aang jumped up. “Let me come with you this time,” he pleaded, already rummaging through his own things to find the spare poncho they’d given him. “We’re not storming a fortress or sneaking onto a naval ship, right? Let me help!”

 

Zuko didn’t want to waste time arguing, and Aang did have a point. “Fine,” he said with a nod. “But stick close to me, and you don’t say or do anything unless I tell you, understood?” Aang nodded hurriedly as he pulled the poncho over his head. “If for some reason you have to bend,” Zuko added as he pulled his hood up, “waterbending only.” A young waterbender would be an unusual sight in the colonies, but not nearly as strange as an airbender.

 

“Fine, fine,” Aang agreed, pulling his own hood up to cover his tattoos. “Let’s go. Lead the way.” He gestured in the direction Katara had gone. As they left the clearing behind and headed towards the town, Zuko could only hope that he was worried over nothing.

 

* * *

 

_ South Pole - Eight Years Earlier _

 

When Katara turned sixteen, Amaruk intensified her training. It was typical for a young woman to take on greater responsibilities at that age - more chores, or more time supervising and instructing the children - as she was now an adult and full member of the tribe. But Katara was spared the additional hours of cooking, weaving, sewing, cleaning, mending, healing, and babysitting, as her waterbending master laid claim to all her free time.

 

It didn’t escape her notice that Lagora and Nivi disapproved, but Katara paid them no mind. It wasn’t like she was forgoing those other tasks to slack off, and if the other girls had wanted to, they could have pursued the warrior’s training just as Katara had. It had been their own decision to stay in Kida’s healing hut; Katara had simply chosen another path for herself.

 

She would spar with the nonbending warriors now as well, along with Kohnna, and most of them appreciated the challenge. Sokka would still grouse about magic water occasionally, when she’d beaten him particularly thoroughly, but it was with far better humor than he ever had in the past. Privately, he’d even admitted that she had forced him to be more creative, and think more quickly on his feet.

 

But Amaruk was never satisfied. If she mastered a new form, he demanded she do it faster. If she could fend off two opponents at once, he had her face three. Her water whips always needed to be more forceful, her waves bigger, her ice daggers sharper. They trained early in the day and late at night, on clear days or in the snow, for a warrior needed to know how to fight under any conditions.

 

So when she was woken up in the middle of the coldest night of the year so far by Amaruk and Gran Gran’s arguing voices, she wasn’t really surprised. It was the full moon, so she hadn’t been sleeping heavily, and it made sense that Amaruk would want her to train while she was at her most powerful. Still, she couldn’t help but grumble to herself a bit as she bundled up and joined them in the main room of the house.

 

Amaruk nodded in satisfaction when she came into the room. “Good, you’re ready to go,” he said. Gran Gran gave her a disapproving look.

 

“A little more forewarning would have been nice,” Katara complained, ignoring her grandmother and pulling on her gloves. She didn’t see why a midnight lesson had to be unannounced.

 

“You wanted a warrior’s training,” Amaruk replied, unsympathetic. “This is part of it.”

 

“I wanted you to train me so I  _ wouldn’t _ have to practice in the middle of the night,” Katara shot back. Amaruk chuckled.

 

“I don’t think this is a good idea, Katara,” Gran Gran cautioned. “A young woman should not be sneaking around at night with a married man.”

 

“Gran Gran!” Katara exclaimed, her face suddenly hot with anger and embarrassment. Why did everything she did have to be a question of... _ that _ , just because she was a girl? If Amaruk had asked to take Sokka on a hunt, she knew Gran Gran would have seen nothing amiss. Was it too much to ask for her to have the same freedom?

 

Amaruk’s reaction was merely an exasperated sigh. “Really, Kanna, must you make everything sound so sordid?”

 

Gran Gran ignored him, fixing Katara with the blank, resolute stare that had always stopped her in her tracks when she was a child doing something she shouldn’t. “Your father would not approve,” she said sternly.

 

“Well, he’s not here, is he?” Katara shot back. “And I’m not a child anymore, so I can make my own decisions.” Furiously, she stormed towards the door, and out into the frigid night. The cold air hit her like a slap to the face, and made her realize there were tears on her cheeks. She hastily wiped them away, mortified, and pulled up the hood of her parka.

 

She could hear Amaruk and Gran Gran still arguing inside the house, though she could no longer make out what they were saying. A moment later, Amaruk joined her outside. “Your grandmother worries too much,” he said, as if by way of reassurance.

 

Katara’s instinct was to stick up for Gran Gran, but she held her tongue in her anger. He was right - Gran Gran  _ was _ worried unnecessarily. The only time Amaruk had ever been less than upright with her was the secret ultimatum about not training her until she asked, and that had been Kida’s doing more than his. She followed him into the night with total confidence.

 

It started to snow as they walked, not heavy but noticeable. Amaruk led her out of the village, past the training grounds, and out into the tundra. “Is there a reason we have to come all the way out here?” Katara grumbled. It’s not like there was any shortage of ice and snow closer to home.

 

“Yes,” Amaruk replied, but did not elaborate. He bent to examine something on the ground, then stood and continued walking, adjusting their direction slightly. Katara realized he was tracking something. Did he want her to use her waterbending for hunting?

 

The trail led them to the mouth of a cave, where they found a huddle of otter penguins in hibernation. Amaruk nodded in satisfaction, keeping them at a distance, and turned to face her.

 

“You know that the full moon is when a waterbender is at their strongest,” Amaruk said solemnly. “It is time for you to learn just how powerful you are.” He waved his hand in the air, calling a handful of the falling snow to him and crystalizing it into an ice dagger. “Here at the south pole, as in the north, you always have water around you, in its pure form. But if you find yourself doing battle in hotter and dryer lands someday, you may have to be more creative.”

 

“You mean like pulling water from plants?” Katara asked. Kida had shown her how to do that, to dry certain medicinal herbs more quickly. It had been tricky at first, but certainly didn’t require the power of the full moon.

 

“That is one option,” Amaruk replied. “But there is another technique, one only known to a few of the most advanced waterbenders.” Without warning, he grabbed her hand, pulled off her glove, and pricked her finger on the tip of the ice dagger.

 

Katara pulled her hand back with a startled yelp, as the dark blood welled up at the tip of her finger. Then she watched it slowly rise, four ruby droplets glistening in the moonlight, at Amaruk’s command. “How…” she breathed in amazement, the mild stinging pain in her finger already forgotten.

 

“There is water in blood,” Amaruk said, letting the drops dance in a circle over his outstretched palm. “With the full moon’s power, you can manipulate it, too.”

 

It was mesmerizing, and yet vaguely sickening, what he was doing. Katara couldn’t look away. “But how does that help me in a fight?” she asked with a grimace. “Am I supposed to... _ bleed myself _ in order to have a weapon?”

 

“You don’t use your own blood,” Amaruk said in a low voice, letting the four drops fall and stain the white snow at their feet. “You use theirs.” With the hand that had spilled her blood so casually, he pointed to the sleeping penguins. “And that is how you are going to practice.”

 

Katara looked at the soft, whiskered faces and hesitated. “Won’t that hurt them?” she asked. It seemed cruel to hurt an animal if you didn’t need to. They weren’t hunting, and the penguins posed no threat to them.

 

Amaruk rolled his eyes. “It’s just a penguin, Katara,” he scolded. “If you’re afraid to hurt them, how will you fair in a real fight? Don’t be such a child.”

 

“Alright,” Katara said in annoyance, pushing aside her reservations. “I get it. Show me what to do.”

 

Amaruk demonstrated the form, stretching out one arm, his movements unusually stiff for waterbending. One penguin twitched upright and waddled forward with unnatural, jerking movements. Amaruk’s fingers twitched, pulling on the animal’s blood like puppet strings. Its eyes were wide and fearful, but it made no sound to alert the rest of the huddle. Katara realized Amaruk wasn’t allowing it.

 

“Now you try,” Amaruk said, his hand still held out in front of him, grasping. Katara imitated him. “Reach out,” he instructed her. “Use the moon’s energy. Do you feel the blood in the animal’s body?”

 

Katara realized she did. It didn’t quite push and pull like water, but she could feel it. It had a pulse. It was alive. She bit her lip, and nodded.

 

“Grab hold of it,” Amaruk commanded. “I’m going to let go.” He lowered his hand, and she could feel the animal’s blood being released, flowing naturally once again. She grabbed hold of it hastily, pulled the penguin towards her...but her control was not as total as Amaruk’s had been. The animal gave a frightened squawk. She was hurting him. She could feel his pain, his fear. With a gasp, she let go, and the poor creature fled, alerting the rest of the huddle to the danger as well.

 

Amaruk watched the penguins run away, then turned to Katara in disappointment. “Why did you stop?” he demanded.

 

“It hurt,” Katara protested. “I could feel what I was doing to him.”

 

Amaruk frowned. “That’s not how it’s supposed to work. You don’t empathize with your opponent. You attack, and you subdue.”

 

“It’s an otter penguin!” Katara yelled in frustration.

 

“Someday it may be a firebender!” Amaruk shouted back. “And your misplaced compassion won’t help you then!” 

 

Katara didn’t care. It had felt awful enough, doing that to an animal. She couldn’t imagine ever using this power on another person. Didn’t Amaruk think she was clever enough to find ways to defend herself without resorting to such horrors? “Did you make Kohnna do this, too?” she asked bitterly.

 

“Kohnna is not ready to learn this technique,” Amaruk replied, still sounding angry with her. “I haven’t even told him about it.”

 

“So why do you expect me to do it,” Katara complained, “when he’s older and more experienced than I am?”

 

“Because you are capable of far more than he is,” Amaruk snapped. The words hung in the still, frosty air. It was not the answer Katara had expected, but for the first time, she knew for certain that Amaruk had actually paid her a compliment, even if he’d only admitted it out of frustration. “Kohnna is hardworking, but only of ordinary natural ability,” Amaruk went on, as if he were explaining to her something she should already know. “You, on the other hand, have the potential for greatness.”

 

But if this was what greatness meant, Katara wasn’t sure she wanted it.

 

“You can keep your creepy bloodbending techniques to yourself,” Katara said, snatching back the glove he still held and tugging it on. Her finger had stopped bleeding already, but the superficial wound seemed even more embarrassing now. She had actually been impressed, at first, by what he was doing… “I’m never going to do that to anyone,” she declared.

 

“That is very disappointing,” was Amaruk’s only reply. But Katara didn’t stay to argue. She turned her back on him and stormed away, towards home, wishing that she had told him to get lost when he showed up in the middle of the night. This lesson hadn’t taught her anything she wanted to know.

 

It was awkward, seeing Kohnna at practice the next day. He smiled and waved when she arrived, like he always did. Katara realized he must not know what had happened last night, if Amaruk had really told him nothing about bloodbending. She wondered, with a small pang of guilt, if he was aware that his father considered her a better waterbender than him. She didn’t think he would like her so much if he knew.

 

But both Kohnna and Amaruk acted like nothing was different, so Katara did her best to do the same. If she hit Amaruk extra hard while sparring with him, she knew he wouldn’t mind. He was the one always telling her not to hold back, after all.

 

Finally, Amaruk declared their training done for the day, and Kohnna asked Katara if he could speak to her alone. Amaruk gave his son an indecipherable look, and Katara hesitated for a moment. Had he said something to Kohnna after all? Was this some trick to try to change her mind about bloodbending? But Katara knew there was no danger of that, no matter what anyone said, so she agreed. Amaruk left them without comment.

 

“I don’t know how much Sokka’s talked to you about it,” Kohnna began, kicking nervously at the snow under his feet. “But he’s planning to take a group of warriors, in the spring, to go to the Earth Kingdom and join your father.”

 

Katara blinked in surprise. “He hasn’t said anything about that.”

 

“Oh,” Kohnna replied lamely. “Really?”

 

“Yes, really,” Katara said, rolling her eyes in frustration. Sokka could still be so pig-headed sometimes. He probably didn’t want his little sister trying to tag along on his war party. Nevermind that it was her father, too, who needed the support…

 

“Well,” Kohnna went on, fidgeting with the fur tassels on the front of his parka. “He’s talked about it with me, and my dad, and he wants me to go - my dad, that is - so it’s looking pretty likely…” He took a deep breath, stopped fidgeting, and squared his shoulders. “That’s why I wanted to ask you now, well before we leave.”

 

Katara stared at him. “Ask me what?”

 

“Not formally!” Kohnna exclaimed hastily. “I didn’t want to spring a necklace on you, when we hadn’t even talked about it. Um, if you even want a necklace that is, I know your mother’s is really important to you…”

 

“Kohnna,” Katara interrupted his rambling, a knot starting to form in her stomach. “Are you trying to ask me to marry you?”

 

“Yes,” Kohnna said, sounding relieved. “Or at least, ask if you would consider it.”

 

The knot in Katara’s stomach pulled tight. It was hardly an elegant proposal. Technically, she supposed, it wasn’t a proposal at all, if he didn’t have a necklace to offer her. She didn’t think of herself as the sort of girl who wanted dramatic gestures, but still she couldn’t help feeling...underwhelmed. Some part of her had seen this coming, had known for a long time that she and Kohnna were an obvious match, but she couldn’t say she’d ever considered the idea with much enthusiasm.

 

Kohnna was waiting for an answer, patient and earnest. At that moment, he looked very different from his father. Kohnna wasn’t like Amaruk, not really. He didn’t treat people the way his father did, didn’t know the things he knew.

 

“I don’t know,” Katara said. A lackluster answer to a lackluster proposal. “I’d need some time…”

 

“That’s great!” Kohnna replied. “I mean, that’s fine. I just wanted you to think about it. Take all the time you need.” He laughed awkwardly. “Well, until I leave in the spring, that is.”

 

Katara promised she’d have an answer by then, and Kohnna headed back towards the village, leaving her alone with her thoughts. So Sokka was going to find their father, and Kohnna was going with him, and she was expected to...what? Stay here and wait for her betrothed to return, like Natika? Would it be years for her as well? And what else would Amaruk do, what else would he try to make her do, while she was waiting?

 

In a world with no war, and no bloodbending, and no scheming northerners, Katara supposed she could see herself marrying Kohnna. But he was only here at the south pole because those things were a part of the world they lived in, and she couldn’t ignore that.

 

* * *

 

_ Fire Nation Colonies - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

It hadn’t taken Katara long to find what they needed in town. Sure enough, no one had given her a second glance. They weren’t even in the oldest of the colonized territories, but there was enough mixing of the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom people here that a good portion of the population was not as monochromatic as elsewhere. Katara’s dark skin and blue clothing were nothing out of the ordinary.

 

The town was not large or affluent, nothing like Gaoling, but Katara had seen places of far worse poverty. A handful of Fire Nation soldiers dotted the main square, but they were young and bored-looking, hardly menacing even in their spiked helmets. A few leaned lazily on their naginata, the poles digging into the ground - nonbenders, she surmised, and not exactly ready for a fight at a moment’s notice. Katara took all this in with the unconcerned air of a traveler who had nothing to fear from the colonial authorities as she made her way to the general store at the end of the square.

 

She took her time haggling over prices with the man in the shop, not wanting to give the impression she was worried about any danger, and in the end felt she’d gotten rather a good deal for her trouble as well. She left the shop with her purchases and stopped at the well in the center of the square to refill her waterskin before she headed back. The morning was hot, and she had drunk a good amount, on top of only carrying one waterskin to avoid suspicion.

 

A woman about Katara’s own age, dressed in blue and green, gave her a friendly smile as she approached the well and held the bucket while Katara filled her waterskin from it. “Staying in town a while?” she asked, nodding at Katara’s satchel, now filled with the supplies she’d bought.

 

“Just passing through,” Katara replied.

 

“Traveling alone?” the woman asked. Katara gave a noncommittal shrug. It was odd for a woman to be unaccompanied, but acknowledging she had traveling companions who had stayed away from the town might raise just as much concern.

 

“For now,” Katara finally said vaguely.

 

“You’re from further south, aren’t you,” the woman observed. Katara tried not to react too strongly, merely raising her eyebrows. “I can always tell where folks are from,” the woman went on.

 

“Sure,” Katara said, closing the cap on her now-full waterskin and shouldering her satchel again. “Near Omashu,” she lied smoothly. “Anyway, thanks for your help.” She headed away from the well, measuring her steps so it wouldn’t look like she was fleeing anything.

 

“No problem,” the woman called after her. “You let me know if you need anything else before you leave, alright?”

 

Katara acknowledged the offer with a wave and let her pace quicken just slightly. Something about the woman was  _ too _ friendly, too eager to help a total stranger, and Katara didn’t like it. The sooner she got back to Zuko and Aang, the better.

 

She was just coming over a ridge at the edge of the woods on the outskirts of town when the soldiers ambushed her. A firebender and two of the nonbenders she had seen earlier rushed her from either side. Dodging the fire, she curled a tendril of water around the pole arm of one of the other soldiers, yanking it out of his hands and sending the blunt end flying into the third soldier’s face with a sharp crack. He fell, clutching his nose, bright red blood already flowing between his fingers.

 

The other nonbender stopped to help his friend, leaving Katara to face the firebender alone. He was one of the inexperienced youths from the town, and she had him on the back foot when out of nowhere something cold and hard fixed itself around her left hand, sending her water whip splashing uselessly to the ground. She spun around to find her new attacker, dodging still more fire as she did. The woman from the well sent another stone cuff flying at her, and succeeded in capturing her right hand as well, binding the two cuffs together behind Katara’s back.

 

The firebender shot a jet of flames at her feet as this happened, forcing her to jump. With her arms bound, she fell awkwardly, and the earthbending woman quickly bound her feet in stone as well.

 

“Gag her,” the woman ordered. “Some waterbenders can breathe ice.” The firebender hastily complied before Katara had a chance to do just that, winded as she was from her hard fall.

 

Satisfied that Katara was secure, the woman turned her attention to the two nonbending soldiers, whom Katara could no longer see from her position on the ground. “Ping,” she said harshly, “is Tan in danger of dying from that wound?”

 

“No, ma’am,” Ping replied.

 

“Then stop fussing over him,” the woman reprimanded. “And next time, don’t leave Chiro fighting on his own just because your buddy’s got a bloody nose.”

 

Katara heard the sounds of the two young men getting to their feet, and distantly, what sounded like a cart coming towards them. It was too much to hope this was someone who would come to her aid, she supposed.

 

“How’d you know she was a waterbender?” Chiro asked, nudging Katara’s shoulder with his boot. She shrugged him off violently, giving him the most menacing glare she could manage.

 

“I didn’t,” the earthbending woman replied. “But no loyal Fire Nation citizen still refers to New Ozai as Omashu.” She laughed darkly before adding, “Even us inferior colonials.”

 

The cart rattled its way over the ridge, and sure enough, it was driven by another soldier. Katara was unceremoniously hoisted into the back. The earthbender climbed in and sat opposite her, the driver slapped the flank of the ostrich horse, and the cart lurched forward. 

 

The earthbender never took her eyes off Katara. She tried to surreptitiously draw water from the air with willpower alone, but it was not a humid day, and she could barely get a few droplets to condense inside her stone cuffs before the effort began to exhaust her. Deciding to save her strength and hope for a better opportunity, she gave up.

 

It didn’t take long for them to reach their destination, a collection of ramshackle buildings around the entrance to a mine. The sun was high overhead and it seemed they had arrived at a shift change - Katara could see a tired procession of shabby workers heading into the mine, and an even more miserable-looking procession coming out. A rattling, clanging sound made her realize the workers were chained to each other. The Fire Nation was putting its prisoners to work.

 

The chain gang coming off shift passed close by the cart as it headed towards the largest of the buildings. Most of the prisoners kept their heads down, but a few risked curious glances, and some even managed a look of pity when they saw her. Katara didn’t see any women among them.

 

But any fear about what would happen to her was momentarily forgotten when she made eye contact with the last prisoner in the lineup. His hair had been shorn, and he was nearly covered in black coal dust, but she would recognize her father anywhere. They shared only a brief look of mutual recognition and horror, before Katara determinedly wrenched her gaze away. But it was too late. The shrewd earthbending woman had noticed.

 

“You know our distinguished guest,” she observed dryly. “You are from the south then, just like I thought.”

 

The cart stopped in front of the large building, and Katara was dragged inside with her feet still bound. She was presented to the warden of the camp, a Fire Nation captain who looked as bored as the young soldiers in the town. He sat at his desk and listened to the earthbender’s testimony, barely nodding now and again to show he was paying attention.

 

“Well done, lieutenant,” the captain said dully when she had finished. “We’ll execute the waterbender in town, to make an example of her.” He shuffled some papers on his desk and added almost as an afterthought, “And since at least one of the prisoners knows her, have them watch.”

 

* * *

 

_ South Pole - Eight Years Earlier _

 

Amaruk was waiting for her when she got home. Gran Gran didn’t look happy with him - but then, she never did. Neither did Sokka, but that was even less surprising. The three of them were seated around the firepit, and looked at her in unison as she walked in the door, and Katara got the impression they had just been talking about her.

 

“Did you all know about this?” Katara asked irritably, before they could try to sway her one way or another.

 

“No,” Sokka replied shortly, glaring at Amaruk. “No one said anything to us at all, which is not how these things are supposed to be done.”

 

“No formal offer has been made,” Amaruk argued. “Why shouldn’t Kohnna ask Katara’s opinion on the matter beforehand?”

 

“He hasn’t courted her,” Gran Gran replied, her voice low but firm.

 

“They’ve known each other for two years, and they’ve trained together for half that time,” Amaruk said exasperatedly. “What would be the point?”

 

“Does anyone care what I think about this?” Katara cut in.

 

“Of course,” Amaruk said smoothly. “That’s why I told Kohnna to ask you first.”

 

“So you did put him up to it,” Katara snapped. She had suspected as much.

 

“I merely encouraged him,” Amaruk demurred. Katara was not fooled. She knew what Amaruk’s encouragement could be like.

 

“You could have encouraged him to do things properly,” Sokka pointed out.

 

“We’re not trying to circumvent propriety,” Amaruk argued. “Just let Katara decide.”

 

“Don’t pretend you have no interest in seeing your son married to the chief’s daughter,” Gran Gran admonished him.

 

Amaruk got to his feet, and looked back at Katara. “I know my son is not your equal, in talent or in social standing. But he is a waterbender - the only eligible waterbending warrior. I would advise you to consider his proposal very seriously.”

 

“Why should I marry him, just because he’s a waterbender?” Katara asked skeptically. She’d never thought of that as a necessary criterion for her husband, in as much as she’d thought about it at all. Up until two years ago, she would have considered herself lucky just to find a husband close to her own age.

 

“If you want more benders to be born here in the south,” Amaruk explained, in the same condescending tone he’d used to tell her she was a better waterbender than his son, “then marrying another waterbender is your safest bet.”

 

Sokka stood as well and gave Amaruk an indignant look. “Your wife isn’t a bender.”

 

“And neither are two of my three children,” Amaruk pointed out. “But things were different in the north, and we did not have as much freedom as you do.”

 

Katara didn’t know why she was still surprised by his candor, but she was. “Are you saying you wouldn’t have married Selen, if you’d had the choice?”

 

“Not if I had been in a situation like yours, certainly,” Amaruk replied.

 

Katara balled her hands into fists to stop them from shaking. “You think you know so much about my situation,” she said bitterly. “Why can’t he have Nivi or Lagora?”

 

Amaruk sighed. “Because he wants you, Katara, not a simpering northern girl who will be a quiet and dutiful wife.”

 

“You don’t give the women of your own tribe much credit,” Katara said, offended on the other girls’ behalf. She might not always see eye to eye with them, but they were hardly as weak-willed as Amaruk made them out to be.

 

“You think you know so much about my tribe,” Amaruk replied with an ironic smile. “But as I said, you have more freedom here. I’ve given you my advice, but it’s your choice. Choose well.” Then, with a polite bow of his head to Gran Gran, he left.

 

“Do you want to marry Kohnna?” Sokka asked her immediately.

 

“I don’t know!” Katara exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air in frustration. “I’ve barely had time to think about it!”

 

“Well, I don’t like the idea of Amaruk as family,” Sokka said bluntly, crossing his arms. “It’s just one more way for him to take Dad’s place, like he’s been trying to do ever since he got here.”

 

Katara’s temper flared at the mention of their father. “If Dad were here, that wouldn’t be a problem, would it?”

 

Sokka was taken aback by her outburst. “Katara, that’s not fair.”

 

“Not fair?” Katara repeated hotly. “What’s not fair is that you were going to go chasing after him and not even say anything about it. It’s not fair that you were going to leave me behind and you let Kohnna be the one to tell me about it!”

 

“Don’t change the subject,” Gran Gran said pointedly. “Your father had his reasons for leaving, and Sokka has his own. That doesn’t change the decision before you now.”

 

Katara did not want to let the other matter drop, and she gave Sokka a glare to let him know he was not off the hook. But she obeyed her grandmother and returned to the question of Kohnna. “What do you think I should do, Gran Gran? Should I marry him?”

 

“That depends,” Gran Gran answered cryptically. She turned to Sokka. “I’d like to speak to Katara alone.”

 

Sokka looked annoyed by the request, but he knew better than to argue with their grandmother. Muttering something about going to find his friends Atial and Mekkino, he complied and left the house.

 

With the full intensity of her grandmother’s scrutiny now on her, Katara felt herself shrink a little. “Is there possibly a reason,” Gran Gran asked carefully, “why you might  _ need _ to marry Kohnna within the next few months?”

 

“No, Gran Gran!” Katara denied angrily. “Why are you always so suspicious about my honor?”

 

“Because I know how little a woman’s honor means to a man of ambition,” Gran Gran said, more than a hint of bitterness in her voice. “And how foolish a young woman with romantic ideas can be.”

 

“I’m not some romantic fool,” Katara protested. “I would never…”

 

“Good,” Gran Gran cut her off. “Then the question becomes, what are your objections to Kohnna?”

 

Katara sighed in frustration. “I don’t think it’s Kohnna himself I object to.”

 

“You like the idea of Amaruk as your father-in-law as little as Sokka does,” Gran Gran said.

 

Katara looked away, and nodded. It felt like admitting that she had been wrong, and her grandmother had been right, even if not in quite the way she had thought. There was something...unpleasant about Amaruk, deep down, that she had seen in his bloodbending lesson. Kida had tried to warn her about it, too. He was unashamed of using people. 

 

“No matter how sincere Kohnna is,” Katara said after a moment, “I know this is part of Amaruk’s scheme. And I’ve had enough of that.”

 

Gran Gran hummed in agreement. “I think it could be good for Kohnna, to get away from his father’s influence for a while.”

 

Katara’s shoulders sagged. “And what about me?”

 

“You’re stronger than Kohnna is, and this is your home,” Gran Gran reminded her. “You don’t need to retreat.”

 

* * *

 

_ Fire Nation Colonies - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

Even walking at a brisk pace, it took them longer than Zuko would have liked to reach the town. The rain had held back, but was still threatening to fall at any moment. They had not, of course, met Katara along the way, like Aang had hopefully suggested they might, nor did they meet anyone else until they reached the main square, where a large crowd was gathered around a raised platform, where a lone figure stood, wearing the white hood of an executioner.

 

Zuko really hoped this was a coincidence, but so far, luck had not been on their side today.

 

Keeping a firm hand on Aang’s shoulder to make sure he stayed close, Zuko cautiously approached an older man at the edge of the crowd. “Who’s he waiting for?” he asked in a low voice, keeping his head angled so his own dark hood would obscure his face in shadows. He would look suspicious, but it was better than being recognized.

 

Sure enough, the man gave him a wary look, but answered his question anyway. “They caught a waterbender this morning,” he said, confirming Zuko’s worst fears. Aang gasped, and Zuko tightened his grip on the boy’s shoulder. Panicking now would be the worst thing they could do for her.

 

“Doing what?” Zuko asked through gritted teeth.

 

“I dunno,” the man replied with a shrug. “Waterbending?”

 

Zuko turned away from the unhelpful man and scanned the square. The crowd looked tense, for the most part, rather than excited. Not thrilled to see a waterbender put to death, then? There was no sign of Katara as of yet, but on the far side of the platform Zuko could see several other prisoners in chains.

 

“Who are they?” he asked, turning back to the man and pointing.

 

“War prisoners, from the mines,” the man answered, eyeing Zuko skeptically again. “The captain wants them to watch, I guess.” He narrowed his eyes. “But what I’d like to know is, who are you?”

 

Zuko didn’t answer, steering Aang to push through the crowd and get closer to the platform instead. He tugged at his hood to make sure it stayed low over his face as he went, keeping a mental count of how many soldiers he saw - ten in uniform, possibly more off duty or in plain clothes, and who could say what the townspeople would do if a fight broke out. This wasn’t as dangerous as raiding Zhao’s ship, perhaps, but it wasn’t ideal either.

 

By the time they made it to the front, a caged cart was rattling its way towards the platform from the other side, where the prisoners stood in a row, chained together. Zuko thought there was something familiar about the man standing farthest from him, but he didn’t dwell on that. In the cart, sure enough, was Katara, a gag tied over her mouth and her hands and feet bound with stone cuffs. So there was an earthbender on the Fire Nation payroll.

 

If Katara saw them, she gave no sign as she was dragged from the cart to the platform by two guards, one male and wearing the standard uniform, the other a woman in civilian clothes. Zuko took one last look around to assess the situation, struggling desperately to think of a viable alternative to the plan he had in mind, and failed to find one. He glanced up at the dark, overcast sky, then gave Aang one last stern look and a signal to be quiet and slipped away from him.

 

“On what grounds is this woman sentenced?” Zuko called out in a loud voice, just as Katara was forced to her knees in front of the executioner.

 

All eyes turned to him, except for Katara. She must have recognized his voice, but she kept her head down, not giving anything away. Smart.

 

It was the female guard who answered. “Did you miss the announcement?” she said haughtily. “She is a waterbender.”

 

“That,” Zuko said firmly, pushing himself up onto the platform to stand before the woman, “is not a crime.”

 

Both guards took a step back at his bold action, but the woman recovered quickly. “She is also part of the rebellion against the Phoenix King’s rule,” she explained.

 

“What proof do you have of that?” Zuko challenged further. “She was captured hours ago. There can’t have been a thorough investigation, or a trial.”

 

Another officer had joined them on the platform. “Who are you, to challenge our authority to execute a prisoner?” he demanded. “Are you a steward of the Phoenix King’s justice?”

 

“What if I am,” Zuko bluffed, trying hard not to glance at the dark clouds overhead again. The air remained stubbornly hot and dry. “How would you answer me?”

 

A murmur went through the crowd. “I would answer,” the female guard said, eyes narrowed, “that there was sufficient evidence to satisfy me, and the captain who holds jurisdiction here as well.”

 

“I see,” Zuko said. He blinked, an inadvertent nervous tick as he thought quickly, which he was grateful that his hood would make less obvious. “She has refused to swear the oath, then?”

 

“The oath?” the officer asked in confusion. Zuko hoped he hadn’t overplayed his hand, that the law he referenced hadn’t been repealed by his father, but there was nothing for it but to double down.

 

“By decree of Fire Lord Azulon in the twenty-third year of his reign, benders of inferior elements who are captured in battle may be set free,” he explained, unable to suppress the memory of his sister’s childish voice as she showed him up in their lessons. “Provided they swear a sacred oath never to fight against the Fire Nation’s interests again.”

 

The officer looked to the female guard. “Is that true?” he asked in a low voice. Zuko wondered which of them was really in charge here. 

 

The woman crossed her arms, but her look of suspicion was gone. Apparently, she was taking him seriously as a royal inquisitor now. “That decree,” she said carefully, “applies to the field of battle. It has never been taken to apply here, in the colonies.”

 

“It does not apply to earthbenders in the colonies, who are Fire Nation subjects,” Zuko clarified. He pointed to Katara for emphasis. “That woman, as you have said, is a waterbender. She is a foreigner by definition, and thus any subversive actions are considered those of an enemy combatant.”

 

Katara looked up at last, meeting Zuko’s eyes with steely determination. She could not make any other sign, but he knew she had caught on to what he was doing, and she was ready. Finally, he felt a single raindrop. “If you won’t give her a proper trial,” he said, taking two steps towards where Katara knelt and reaching to untie the gag over her mouth, “you must at least offer her the chance to take the oath.”

 

A sprinkling of further rain drops came down on them, and the female guard seemed to realize what he was doing. “Don’t-” she said sharply, but she never finished. The cloth fell away from Katara’s face, and the heavens unleashed a downpour of rain, which froze into icy shards that pinned the executioner, the guards, and the soldiers to the ground - not lethally, but not bloodlessly either.

 

The crowd erupted in a roar - though some of it, Zuko noticed, was cheers. Some men tried to storm the platform, but others held them back, and Zuko fended off what little resistance the soldiers were still capable of putting up as Katara broke her stone cuffs with ice as well.

 

“The prisoners,” Katara called, leaping off the platform towards where the men were still chained helplessly. She set herself to breaking the chains, and Aang joined her. Zuko thought the boy had probably used some subtle airbending to make his way out of the turbulent crowd so quickly, but he obediently stuck to waterbending for freeing the prisoners. 

 

Zuko, for his part, had to fend off the mob that was spilling onto the platform, fighting him and each other. The wooden boards beneath their feet groaned in protest. He extricated himself as quickly as he could and joined Katara and Aang.

 

The freed prisoners mostly ran for it as soon as they could, before the mob could get to them. Only one man lingered, unarmed but following Katara defensively until the last chain was broken. “Hakoda?” Zuko exclaimed with a start of recognition.

 

His father-in-law met his eyes, nodded, then grabbed Katara by the arm and ran out of the square by the same route the other prisoners had taken. Zuko did the same with Aang. No one pursued them - the mob had become too absorbed in itself. Apparently, the divided loyalties of the townspeople had been simmering beneath the surface long enough that they were more concerned with taking out their frustrations on each other than anything else.

 

The four of them did not slow their pace until they reached the relative safety of the woods outside the town.


	13. The Enemy of the Enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko, Aang, and Katara get further drawn into the complicated situation in the colonies.
> 
> In the past, Katara has some choices to make.

**Book I: Water**

 

**Chapter 12: The Enemy of the Enemy**

 

_ Fire Nation Colonies - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

When they were finally certain that no one was trailing them into the woods, and could begin making their way directly towards the clearing where they had left Appa, Aang took a moment to study the prisoner who had inexplicably joined them. He had heard Zuko say the man’s name was Hakoda, and Katara certainly acted like she knew him. But introductions had not been made.

 

“I’m Aang,” he said cheerfully, falling into step beside the stranger and looking up at him. It was still raining, which had washed away most of the black grime that had covered him. He was slightly taller than Zuko, with dark skin and blue eyes like Katara - obviously he was water tribe, so Aang assumed Katara knew him from her village.

 

Hakoda looked down at him curiously, then back at Katara, who was leading the way. “Oh right,” Katara called over her shoulder. “Aang, this is my father. Dad, Aang.” But she didn’t offer any further explanation. She did, however, use her waterbending to deflect the rain away from all four of them, now that they didn’t have to run anymore.

 

“Why are you…” Katara’s father began, wiping the last of the raindrops from his face, but Zuko cut him off from where he brought up the rear of the group.

 

“We’ll explain when we’re in the air,” he said.

 

“In the air?” Hakoda repeated in surprise. “Did you come here in a war balloon?”

 

“You’ll see,” Katara replied.

 

His confusion was not allayed when they reached the clearing and and he laid eyes on the still-slumbering Appa, who admittedly did not look like much of a means of flight as he reluctantly responded to Aang’s efforts to wake him. Fortunately, the bison was well-rested enough to get them into the air with no difficulty. Aang took the reins, while Katara and Zuko sat very close together at the front of the saddle - they might have been holding hands, but it was hard for Aang to tell. Hakoda sat further back, so Aang could only hear him, and faintly, with the wind carrying his voice away.

 

“Who is that boy?” he asked as soon as they had cleared the treetops. The rain had abetted to a misty drizzle, and Katara had given up shielding them. Aang urged Appa to fly as fast as he could, hoping to find clearer skies soon.

 

“He’s the Avatar,” Zuko answered. “We found him frozen in the ice, back home.”

 

There was silence as Appa climbed higher, except for the sound of the air rushing past them. Aang supposed that was a lot to process. When he heard the adults’ voices again, they were too low for him to make out, but he assumed Zuko and Katara were explaining the rest of their adventures so far. Or maybe they were talking about the rest of their family that they had left behind. Aang’s insides still twisted with guilt at the thought.

 

About an hour later, when they had outrun the storm, Zuko leaned over the front of the saddle and suggested they find another place to land. They were at the southern end of the Penkou River Valley, far enough from the mining town that news of their exploits had probably yet to spread.

 

Back on the ground, on a grassy slope leading down to the river, they took stock of their situation. The food and supplies Katara had bought on their last stop had obviously been lost, along with the money and the waterskin she had had on her when she was captured. They would still need to restock before they reached the burned lands, which meant either foraging or risking another stop at a settlement.

 

“I still can’t believe it was an earthbender that caught you,” Aang said to Katara, shaking his head. “I thought the Earth Kingdom people would be against the Fire Nation’s rule here.”

 

Zuko shrugged. “It’s more complicated than that. Some areas have been colonized for a long time.” He looked away as if ashamed. “Fire Nation rule is probably all that woman has ever known.”

 

“The burning broke many people’s spirits as well,” Hakoda added. Zuko seemed to shrink even further, and Katara took hold of his hand.

 

“We’re hoping that will start to change,” Katara said, a welcome positive turn in the conversation, “as news of the Avatar’s return spreads.”

 

“Like how the swamp benders agreed to help the resistance now!” Aang added brightly. He was glad of the reminder that his tenure as Avatar hadn’t been totally marked by failure. “And hopefully the Northern Water Tribe will, too.”

 

Hakoda gave Aang an appraising look. “Indeed,” he said with a sad smile. “Let us pray that you can convince them of that.”

 

“You could come with us to the North Pole,” Zuko suggested tentatively. “The northern chief might be more easily persuaded to help if the southern chief asks him personally.”

 

Hakoda and Katara exchanged a look. “Unfortunately,” Hakoda said, “there’s that unpleasant history between our families. Katara is further removed from it. I think it’s better to let her act as my representative.”

 

Aang waited for further explanation, but Zuko merely nodded in understanding. Apparently he was already familiar with whatever had happened between Katara’s family and the northern chief’s, and nobody thought Aang needed to know about it.

 

“Will you head for Gaoling, then?” Katara asked her father with concern. “It’s a long way, through hostile territory.”

 

“Oh, I’ve got plenty of experience making my way through hostile territory,” Hakoda reassured her. “You’re the one attempting to cross the burned lands.”

 

“But that can’t be that dangerous, as long as we’re properly supplied,” Aang said in confusion. “There’s nobody there to attack us, right?”

 

Hakoda looked from Katara to Zuko in surprise. “No one’s told him?”

 

Aang felt a flare of annoyance as Katara and Zuko exchanged a guilty look. “Oh, there’s lots of things nobody tells me,” he said bitterly.

 

“We didn’t want to worry him,” Zuko said to Hakoda. “Not before we had to.”

 

“Well, I’m worried now,” Aang complained. “What’s in the burned lands?”

 

“Spirits,” Katara answered. “And they’re...not happy.”

 

_ Even the spirits go to war, when they have cause, _ Sokka had said. Aang had assumed the cause they would have now was something to do with the Fire Nation. But somehow he had thought that spiritual warfare would be confined to the spirit world. “You mean they attack people?” he asked in amazement.

 

“Anyone who gets near them, as far as we can tell,” Hakoda confirmed.

 

“But we’ll be flying over,” Zuko pointed out. “So hopefully they’ll leave us alone.”

 

Aang thought it was overly optimistic to expect spirits to stay on the ground, but he had his own ideas. “Or maybe,” he suggested, “they’ll know I’m the Avatar, and they won’t want to attack me.” If he was the bridge between the spirit world and the mortal world, the spirits were supposed to like him, weren’t they?

 

“That’s certainly possible,” Hakoda allowed.

Zuko got out the maps they had brought with them, and the four of them sat in a circle in the grass to look them over, with Momo nestled in Aang’s lap. Aang was glad to be included, even if he didn’t have much to contribute to the planning. Hakoda and Zuko knew the colonies better than he or Katara did, and it was mostly between the two of them that Hakoda’s route back to Gaoling was worked out.

 

“We should try to get supplies further north in the valley,” Katara suggested once her father’s plans were settled. Aang looked at the area on the map she was pointing to. There was a single green circle there, though it was only a thin outline, not filled in like the others further south were.

 

“What does that mean?” he asked, pointing to the symbol.

 

“Possible safe haven,” Zuko explained. “That area is known for being more resistant to Fire Nation rule, but the Underground has had no contact with them.”

 

Hakoda leaned closer and looked at the name of the largest town marked in the region. “Gaipan,” he read aloud, then looked back up at Zuko. “Be careful,” he warned. “I’ve heard that’s a rough town.”

 

“As long as they’re not eager to help the Fire Nation, that may work to our advantage,” Katara pointed out. She got to her feet, and Hakoda did the same. Katara said her goodbyes to her father while Zuko rolled up the maps.

 

“Once you find the rest of your war party,” Katara said in a low voice, one hand on her father’s arm, “you should think about going home again for a while.”

 

Hakoda frowned, and Aang suddenly became very interested in the drowsy lemur still curled in his lap, trying hard not to look like he was listening. “Is he really so bad that your brother can’t handle him?” Hakoda asked. Aang guessed he was talking about the green-eyed waterbender who had led the council at the South Pole. Katara obviously didn’t like him.

 

“It’s not about him,” Katara argued. Zuko got to his feet and stood next to her, but Aang stayed where he was. “People need to see you, Dad. You’re their chief.”

 

“They have seen me,” Hakoda replied stubbornly. Aang got the impression this was an argument they’d had before. Zuko, at any rate, seemed to be staying out of it.

 

“That was seven years ago,” Katara pointed out. “Bato has a son he’s never even laid eyes on who’s almost halfway old enough to go ice dodging. And,” she added, an edge creeping into her voice, “you’ve never met your grandson.”

 

Aang looked up at the adults discretely, since they weren’t paying any attention to him anymore.  Hakoda looked shocked into silence, and Aang got the impression that Katara playing the grandchild card was a low blow, as far as he was concerned. Hakoda looked to Zuko as if seeking support, but Zuko merely shrugged. “She’s right,” he said, reluctantly being drawn into the debate. Privately, Aang thought Hakoda should have known that Zuko would take Katara’s side.

 

Katara, for her part, looked triumphant, but not without a hint of old anger behind it.

 

“Alright,” Hakoda relented. “I’ll think about it.” Even Aang could tell that this was mere face-saving, and that the chief of the Southern Water Tribe had been prevailed upon by his daughter.

 

“Good,” Katara replied with a firm nod. She hugged her father, a long embrace that he seemed reluctant to break. When he did, Zuko held out his hand to him, as he had to the fire sages at Roku’s temple. Hakoda grasped his forearm, but pulled him into a hug as well. Zuko stumbled in surprise as Katara’s father clapped him once on the back, then let him go.

 

Hakoda turned to Aang, who blinked sheepishly at having been caught watching them. But Hakoda didn’t seem bothered. “Avatar,” he said, with a formal bow, “Good luck.”

 

“Thanks,” Aang said, hugging Momo to his chest. He was going to need all the luck he could get, if they really did have a run-in with angry spirits on their way to the North Pole.

 

They parted ways not long after, Hakoda making his way back towards the south on foot, and Appa reluctantly coaxed back into the air to fly in the direction of Gaipan. Zuko took the reins this time, and Katara sat at the back of the saddle, looking into the distance behind them. Aang figured she was still thinking about her father, or her home at the South Pole, or both. She looked sad.

 

“Do Zuko and your dad not get along?” Aang blurted out. Katara turned to look at him in surprise, and Aang shrugged. “They seemed awkward around each other, is all,” he mumbled by way of explanation.

 

Katara shook her head. “It’s not Zuko that my dad has a problem with,” she said. She looked away, considering for a moment, then added, “It’s not my dad that Zuko has a problem with, either.” She leaned her elbow against the rim of the saddle, rested her chin on her hand, and said no more.

 

* * *

 

_ South Pole - Eight Years Earlier _

 

Katara waited two weeks before she gave Kohnna an answer. Her mind was mostly made up, but she was reluctant to reject him too quickly. She knew it wasn’t fair to drag things out unnecessarily, either, but there was a small voice in the back of her mind that sounded suspiciously like Lagora that did whisper to her every now and then about limited options. It wasn’t like Kohnna was terrible, or she had her heart set on someone else.

 

Be that as it may, she wasn’t going to marry Amaruk’s son.

 

When she finally plucked up the nerve to speak to Kohnna alone, once again following their waterbending practice, she realized from the resigned look of defeat in his eyes that she had been more obvious than she had thought.

 

“I’m sorry, Kohnna,” she began, and meant it. “I know your intentions were honest, and you made your offer in all sincerity. But your father…”

 

Kohnna looked away from her dejectedly, kicking at the snow under his feet. “I had a feeling he would be what would ruin it,” he said softly.

 

Katara felt bad for him, she really did. But that didn’t change anything. “I don’t know if you realize what he’s trying to do,” she said. Marrying his son into the chief’s family would only further solidify Amaruk’s prominence within the community, and with Katara’s father still away on his seemingly endless war campaigns...

 

“I do, Katara,” Kohnna replied. He looked up, still not meeting her eye, and gazed into the darkening afternoon sky. The days were still short, but getting longer. Spring would come soon. “Believe me, no one can see a man’s faults like his own children.”

 

Katara knew that to be true. “I can tell him, if you want,” she offered. Amaruk probably wouldn’t take her failure to cooperate with his designs well, and Kohnna shouldn’t have to face his ire for that.

 

“No,” Kohnna said, looking at her at last. He had a new determination in his eyes, and Katara couldn’t help but think of what Gran Gran had said, about how he needed to get out from under his father’s influence. “I’ll let him know. And maybe I’ll tell him some other things as well.”

 

“Good luck with that,” Katara said earnestly.

 

“Thanks,” Kohnna replied, finally smiling again.

 

They headed back to the village, and went their separate ways, Katara to find her brother, and Kohnna looking for his father. She didn’t envy him at all, though she supposed she would also have to deal with Amaruk’s displeasure at some point.

 

Over the next several weeks, however, Katara found that her waterbending teacher did not attempt to change her mind, nor did he do anything to make her life difficult. Well, nothing more than usual. In fact, he didn’t mention her rejection of his son at all, as if it had never happened. Perhaps that was how he dealt with failure.

 

What he did continue to pester her about, each time the full moon drew near, was bloodbending. But Katara refused to try it again, and nothing he could say would change her mind. Gran Gran, at least, was happy that there were no more late night lessons.

 

When springtime came, Sokka’s war party began preparations in earnest. Kohnna would indeed be going with him, as would Senorit, Atial, and Mekkino. The rest of the warriors - including Katara - would stay behind. Amaruk had insisted, and the other elders had agreed, that it had been an error in judgement on the part of Chief Hakoda to leave the village undefended, and they were not going to repeat the mistake. There had been no Fire Nation raids in the south for several years, but the attempted siege of the north two years ago proved that they could never let their guard down.

 

There were other preparations to be made as well, for there was a wedding to celebrate. Ikino, the elder of Nivi’s two brothers, was marrying Siaja, a southern woman. It was the second such marriage, after Atial and Tira’s wedding the previous year. Tira was now great with child, and Katara knew her aunt was hoping the baby would be born before Atial left with Sokka. Senorit’s wife had given birth just a few weeks previously - Katara had been called back into the healing hut to help Kida with the delivery of her grandson - and the first birth in their village in five years had been cause for much celebration. Tira’s child was anticipated just as eagerly.

 

The night before the wedding, all the women of the village gathered in the house where Siaja lived with her older sister, Keela. Katara was the youngest one there, for Minak was still a month shy of her sixteenth birthday, and Lagora wouldn’t be of age until the following year. She sat between Natika and Nivi as cups were passed around containing a strong, dark liquor. Katara managed only a few sips before the taste made her gag, and her cousin laughed at the face she pulled.

 

“You’re a grown woman already fending off suitors, but you can’t handle your drink, Katara?” Natika teased.

 

“Ease up,” Tira scolded her, handing Katara a cup of water instead, which Katara accepted gratefully. “Getting drunk isn’t the point of being here.”

 

“That’s right,” Keela agreed, though she proceeded to take a healthy swig from her own cup. “We’re here to complete the young bride’s education.” She elbowed her younger sister affectionately, and Siaja blushed as the rest of the women laughed and whistled.

 

Most of the talk that evening was nothing more than bawdy tales and off-color jokes, though the married women did give Siaja some advice as well, on matters ranging from managing a household to “enjoying” her husband to spacing her children. Everyone seemed to have her own ideas on the last subject, though the word “mucus” was used more than Katara would have liked. The old women spoke frankly about it all while the younger ones giggled, and by the end of the gathering Katara was quite glad she was not getting married any time soon.

 

* * *

 

_ Gaipan - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

The flight upriver towards Gaipan didn’t take long. The skies had cleared, so they maintained a high altitude, hoping anyone who saw them from below would simple take the distant shape for a bird. From their vantage point, they could see the small black shapes of boats traveling up and down the river. Zuko hoped no one on those boats was looking up with a telescope.

 

“There it is,” Katara called from where she held Appa’s reins. Zuko followed the direction she was pointing and saw the town. It was at the northern edge of the forest. The trees went right up to the town walls on the west and part of the southern side, while the Penkou river ran around the southeast. Beyond the town was grassland - the southern limit of where the fires had reached on the day of Sozin’s comet, the parts of the burned lands that had been able to see some regrowth in the years since. The town itself didn’t look like much, either.

 

They landed, found a suitable hiding place for Appa and Momo, and set out for Gaipan on foot. There was little debate about who was going this time - they all felt it was best for the three of them to stick together. Aang tied the blue cloth over his tattoos again, and Zuko kept his hood up. It had worked well enough as a disguise at their last stop. At the last minute, he grabbed the largest knife from their camping gear and tucked it into his belt. It wouldn’t be much of a weapon, but he’d be glad of it if they found themselves in a tight spot where firebending would be risky. Katara insisted Aang carry a waterskin as well.

 

Three miles from the outer limits of the town, they encountered a row of pikes by the side of the road, each topped with a spiked red helmet, running along the remaining visible distance through the forest. A placard affixed to the first pike bore a short warning. “Fire will not be tolerated,” Aang read aloud. The overall effect of the display made its point quite clearly.

 

“Well,” Katara said uncertainly, “they’re certainly not eager to accept Fire Nation rule here.”

 

Aang looked at her in confusion. “That’s a good thing for us, isn’t it?”

 

“Maybe,” Zuko replied. “The enemy of your enemy isn’t necessarily your friend.”

 

Katara was looking at Zuko with concern. “Do you want to turn back?” she asked.

 

Zuko shook his head. They’d come this far, and he really didn’t feel like leaving her and Aang on their own. He had a job to do. He wasn’t going to go hide with Appa while his wife and the Avatar went ahead to the rough town Hakoda had warned them about. “Let’s just get this over with,” he said resolutely, grasping the knife on his belt. “The sooner we get there, the sooner we can leave.”

 

They continued down the road. The monotony of the row of helmets soon grew eerie in the dim light of the forest. How many Fire Nation soldiers had this town taken out? How were they holding out, unconquered, in the middle of the colonies? Zuko would have guessed indifference towards a strategically insignificant settlement, but the sheer number of helmets testified that the Fire Lord’s armies certainly had tried in the past.

 

“Well, at least we know one thing,” Aang said after they had walked in silence for a while. “If Zhao catches up with us here, he’s not going to have an easy time of it.”

 

Katara forced a little laugh, but Zuko didn’t find that a comforting thought at all. They did seem to have thrown off Zhao’s pursuit, since they hadn’t seen him since before Gaoling, but they hadn’t exactly been subtle in their escape from the mining town, either. If the disgraced admiral had caught word of that incident, no doubt he was already on his way north after them.

 

There were no more attempts at levity as they covered the rest of the distance to their destination. If Gaipan had looked unimpressive from the air, it didn’t fare any better from the ground. It was a medium-sized town with a low wall and only two gates. Most of the buildings looked run down, though there were plenty of people going about. Each and every one of them wore green or brown. The three of them in their blue and orange stuck out more than Zuko would have liked.

 

More disturbingly, armed men wearing mismatched armor dotted every street corner. Even without a uniform, it was clear this was the force responsible for keeping the Fire Nation soldiers away, but based on how the townspeople avoided their eyes, Zuko didn’t think they were very popular. Freedom from one distant foreign tyrant didn’t guarantee freedom from tyranny of a more local variety.

 

Zuko kept a firm hand on Aang’s shoulder.

 

They found the market, and Katara led them towards one of the merchant stalls run by a balding older man seated on a high stool. “Hello,” Katara said politely, giving the old man her friendliest smile. “How much for a bag of rice?”

 

The old man glanced each of them up and down in turn before he spoke. “Are you travelers?” he asked hesitantly.

 

Katara gave an unconcerned shrug, still smiling. “Pretty obvious, huh?” she replied. “We’re just passing through.”

 

But it seemed none of Katara’s easy, non-threatening small talk was going to allay the old man’s suspicions. He jerked his chin in Zuko’s direction. “He’s awfully quiet, isn’t he?”

 

Zuko felt Aang tense under his hand, and he gave the boy’s shoulder a quick squeeze to steady him. “We don’t want any trouble,” he said as evenly as he could. “We just want to buy some food.”

 

The old man was staring hard at him, clearly trying to make out his face under the shadows of his hood. “Well, I don’t want any trouble either,” the old man replied. “Which is what selling to strangers might get me. You want to shop here, you better get approval first.” He pointed to a larger building down the street, flanked by two armed guards at the door, which might once have been stately enough to be obviously the town hall.

 

“Approval?” Aang asked in confusion. “Who do we need approval from?”

 

“From Jet,” the old man explained, giving Aang another suspicious once-over, though with less interest than he had shown in Zuko. Perhaps news of the Avatar hadn’t made it this far north yet. “He and his Freedom Fighters run everything around here. No one buys or sells without his approval.” The old man leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and letting his hands hang down casually. “Keeps the Fire Nation away, you know,” he explained with a touch of bitter sarcasm.

 

“I see,” Katara said, exchanging a troubled look with Zuko. Getting approval from the warlord who ran this town would be problematic, if they had to prove they had no ties to the Fire Nation. But declining to even try now would look like an admission of the same. And the guards outside the town hall - the so-called Freedom Fighters, Zuko surmised - were watching them.

 

“Well, go on,” the old man said irritably. “Go make your case, then you can come back and buy all the rice you want.” There were other customers approaching his stall, and he promptly turned his attention to them.

 

Zuko thought quickly as he led the group towards the town hall. Squeezing Aang’s shoulder again, he whispered hurriedly, “Say something to me, and sound embarrassed.”

 

“What?” Aang muttered back, giving him a confused look. “Why do I have to do that?”

 

Zuko hoped that would be good enough. They were coming within earshot of the guards now. “Kisu!” he scolded, turning Aang roughly to face him. “I told you to keep it on you at all times! You’re old enough to be responsible for these things yourself!”

 

“I’m sorry, Uncle?” Aang replied uncertainly, playing along but clearly not understanding. Zuko hoped anyone who overheard would take that for sheepishness at what he had purportedly forgotten.

 

Zuko turned to Katara. “He doesn’t have his passport,” he said, voice low enough not to be obvious, but hopefully still loud enough for the guards to hear. “We have to go back to the camp and get it.”

 

Katara sighed for effect. “Well, we’d better get going then,” she said exasperatedly. She took Aang by the hand and marched him past the town hall, back towards the gate they had entered the town through. Zuko followed closely behind them after casting a furtive glance at the guards. They’d been listening to the whole exchange. He hoped they’d bought it. As he looked away, not wanting to be caught staring, he just saw one of them duck inside the building.

 

They made it all the way past the grizzly lineup of Fire Nation helmets, and Zuko had just started to relax a little, when trouble caught up with them. Six of the motley crew of Freedom Fighters from the town emerged from the trees, blocking their path. The ringleader was a behemoth of a man wielding a large wooden club. He held the weapon downward with one hand, but Zuko had no doubt he’d be able to use it readily.

 

“You folks left town awful quick,” the giant drawled in a deep voice. “You lose something?”

 

“Just left something behind,” Katara answered evenly, one hand on her waterskin. She shifted forward half a step, and Zuko did the same, subtly putting themselves between Aang and the Freedom Fighters. “Won’t take us long to get it,” Katara added.

 

“We’ll help you,” the giant said.

 

“That’s okay, we’ll manage,” Zuko replied.

 

“Wasn’t asking your permission,” the giant shot back, glaring at him. “Now, how about you show us what you’re hiding under that hood.”

 

Zuko glanced at Katara, and she nodded. If there was still a way they could escape without having to fight, they’d have to take the chance and play along a bit longer. Six against three with no large source of water at hand was not great odds if Zuko wielded only a knife, and if he used firebending it might just make things worse. Reluctantly, he pushed back his hood.

 

“Hey!” one of the other Freedom Fighters exclaimed when he saw Zuko’s face. “Isn’t that…” But he trailed off without finishing the thought.

 

The giant seemed to take no notice. “Just like I thought,” he said, hefting his club against his other hand. “Yellow eyes. You know what that means, boys.”

 

Zuko reached for his knife as the giant lifted his club, but Katara knocked the weapon from the giant’s hand with a water whip first. The giant turned his glare on her, but before the rest of his men could make a move on them, an arrow whizzed down from the treetops and caught the one who had recognized Zuko square in the back. 

 

The rest of the Freedom Fighters whirled around, looking for the new assailants. Zuko’s first thought was that Zhao’s archers had found them again, but the giant recovered his club and brandished it at the forest canopy with a roar. “We know that trick!” he bellowed. “Come down here and face us, you traitors!”

 

The newcomers, whoever they were, were apparently happy to oblige. They descended swiftly from the trees and fell upon the Freedom Fighters. Zuko and Katara wasted no time taking advantage of the distraction to attack as well, though Zuko stuck to using his fists and his knife, and even Aang got a few good hits in with his waterbending. The fight ended with two more Freedom Fighters dead and the other three, including the giant, bound with the same whiplike cords the mysterious assailants had used to swing down from the treetops. The one who had been hit by the first arrow had not moved since.

 

Zuko and Katara remained on their guard, unsure who their circumstantial allies were or what they wanted. They wore some kind of red and brown uniforms, though not one that Zuko recognized. Their leader, a young woman with short brown hair and red stripes painted on her cheeks, told them to stand down. “Jet’s goons are idiots,” she proclaimed, looking at Zuko. “No one with a burn scar like that is on the side of the Fire Nation.”

 

“Who are you?” Zuko asked warily.

 

“You can call me Smellerbee,” the young woman replied, returning her sword to its sheath. “We’re the  _ real _ Freedom Fighters.”

 

* * *

 

_ South Pole - Eight Years Earlier _

 

The ceremonies that preceded the departure of a war party were a somber contrast with the wedding that the tribe had celebrated a mere two weeks earlier. Inuk blessed all the warriors, who were arrayed in full warpaint. He invoked the moon and ocean spirits first, then their four children, then proceeded to rattle off a litany of names, more spirits than Katara had ever heard of. She hadn’t paid much attention when her father’s party had left four years ago. She had been too angry then.

 

She didn’t lack anger now, but it was different.

 

Inuk concluded his litany with the invocation of Tokusok, the custodian of all travelers. Katara couldn’t help a shudder, for the ultimate journey on which Tokusok accompanied everyone was into the afterlife. She looked at Sokka, and Kohnna, and the others, and offered her own silent prayer that none of them were embarking on that voyage.

 

They drank a toast to the warriors, and then Sokka lead them in procession down to the shore, where the boat they would take was waiting. It was a southern style clipper, but they’d painted it like the northern ships. As they walked, the men sang rousing verses about the heroic exploits of famous warriors of legend, while the women took of a mournful refrain about mothers awaiting their sons’ return. It wasn’t just mothers who waited though, Katara thought. Why were there no songs about the sisters and daughters left behind?

 

When they reached the shore, the songs came to an end, and everyone said their more personal goodbyes. Katara saw Amaruk speaking quietly to Kohnna, one hand on his shoulder, while Gran Gran gave Sokka a blessing of her own. Senorit held his wife tenderly, their infant son in her arms. Tira was not there to say goodbye to Atial - her baby had been born only two days ago, a healthy boy, and she was still recovering. Her sister Kitra and her children were there to send off Atial and Mekkino instead.

 

Katara looked up into her brother’s face, stark and a bit unnerving with its gray and white paint. He had gotten so much taller than her in the last year. She was sure he was almost as tall as their father now, though of course she had no way to compare for certain. She searched for some heartfelt words of encouragement to give him, and drew a blank.

 

“Are you leaving me behind because I’m a girl?” she blurted out instead.

 

Sokka didn’t seem surprised. “No, Katara,” he said, taking hold of both her shoulders. “I’m asking you to stay for the same reason Dad asked me.” He smiled a little sadly. “You’re barely older than I was then.”

 

“But I am older,” Katara insisted. He had only been fourteen then. “I’m an adult, and I’m a warrior.”

 

“And someone still needs to look after things here,” Sokka reminded her. In a lower voice, he added conspiratorially, “Do you really want to leave Snake Eyes in charge unsupervised?”

 

Katara laughed a little in spite of herself at her brother’s nickname for Amaruk. “Kida and Gran Gran would keep him in check,” she argued, but she was beginning to see his point.

 

Sokka shook his head. “Like he listens to either of them half as much as he listens to you. He respects you, after his own fashion.”

 

Katara felt another twinge of resentment at his words. “It’s not his respect I want,” she said bitterly. And she knew she didn’t really have it, anyway. Amaruk might consider her a powerful bender and a capable warrior, but she was still just another pawn to him. And now an uncooperative one, at that.

 

“Please, Katara,” Sokka all but begged. “I know that…”

 

“That I’ll be safer if I’m here?” she finished for him.

 

“That everyone will be safer if you’re here,” Sokka corrected her.

 

Katara remembered what Gran Gran had said to her, about how she didn’t need to retreat. And she knew she and Sokka were both right, that she had an important role to play here in the village. But so had her father, and it hadn’t stopped him from leaving.

 

“Alright,” Katara agreed reluctantly. “I’ll stay here - for now.”

 

She hugged him goodbye, and the warriors boarded the ship. But as she watched them sail away, Katara still couldn’t help but feel a little envious that Sokka, like their father, got to run away.

 

It was strange, the next day, for Katara to have waterbending practice without Kohnna, knowing this would now be the norm. With the full moon approaching, Amaruk asked her once again if she would reconsider learning to bloodbend, and Katara once again refused. She wondered how long this impasse would go on.

 

She found herself alone with Kida that afternoon as well - Lagora was helping Tira with her newborn, and Nivi and Minak had taken a boat out to some of the islands to the north to gather medicinal plants. Kida had asked for her assistance cleaning out the apothecary, and had ended up showing her a scroll that had somehow been left in the tent. It had detailed diagrams explaining how to ease blockages in both the major blood vessels and chi paths of the body.

 

The bright red lines running through the outline of a human figure inevitably called to mind the more sinister way she now knew her bending could be put to use. “A few months ago,” she began hesitantly, “during the full moon, Amaruk showed me something…” She trailed off, uncertain why she was even confiding in Kida.

 

“He taught you bloodbending,” Kida concluded, rolling up the scroll.

 

Katara blinked in surprise. “You know about it?” Amaruk had said only the most advanced waterbenders were taught how to do it. She couldn’t imagine the Northern Water Tribe reckoning healers, even accomplished ones like Kida, among that elite group.

 

“It was the healers who first discovered it,” Kida replied as if reading her thoughts. “It’s not a proper healing art, since it manipulates the blood directly rather than the chi, but it can be useful in extreme situations.” She tucked the scroll into her belt, and Katara had the strange impression Kida was avoiding her gaze all of a sudden. “Of course, there’s a reason it’s a secret technique,” she said sadly.

 

“Well, good,” Katara said forcefully. “Let it stay that way. It’s horrible.”

 

Kida sighed and busied herself with stacking some empty baskets. “What did he make you do with it?”

 

“He wanted me to control an otter penguin,” Katara explained, feeling queasy at the mere memory. “But I could feel how much it was hurting the animal...I could never do that to a person. I don’t know how Amaruk can stand it.”

 

“He wouldn’t feel it like you do, Katara,” Kida said, still facing away from her. “That empathy comes from your healing abilities.”

 

Katara crossed her arms. “So he wouldn’t feel it because he’s a man.”

 

Kida stilled. “It does seem the spirits have ordained things that way.” She sounded just like Lagora, declaring that to be simply the way things were. Then again, Lagora must have learned that from someone.

 

“Has anyone ever tried?” Katara challenged her. “To teach a man how to heal, I mean.”

 

Kida actually gave a short laugh, a dark sound that caught Katara by surprise. “I should have known he wouldn’t tell you,” she said, shaking her head. She turned to face Katara at last, sitting across from her and folding her hands in her lap. “Amaruk came to me, years ago, and asked me to teach him. He thought the notion that women were healers and men were warriors was nothing more than ancient superstition, and he wanted to prove the elders wrong.”

 

Katara leaned forward eagerly. “And did he? Was he able to do it?”

 

“No,” Kida replied. “He couldn’t heal even the tiniest cut or bruise.” She sighed again. “That’s why I taught him bloodbending.”

 

“ _ You _ taught him that?” Katara asked in disbelief, her voice all but a whisper.

 

“I thought he wanted to heal, and since bloodbending doesn’t rely on the manipulation of chi paths like other healing techniques, he would at least be able to do that.” Kida unfolded her hands and rubbed her palms against her knees. “But as soon as I’d shown him, he immediately thought of using it to fight.”

 

Disparate pieces fell into place, finally making a complete picture. “And you objected, and he called you backwards or cowardly or something, and that’s why you hate each other,” Katara concluded.

 

Kida nodded. “More or less,” she agreed.

 

A year’s worth of resentment that Katara had been nurturing towards Kida simmered to the surface - she had brought her feud with Amaruk here to the south without regard for the consequences - but just as abruptly her anger fizzled out. Kida had tried to keep Amaruk away from her, and tried to warn her about him. Now, Katara could finally appreciate why.

 

The next morning, Katara was already waiting for Amaruk at the training field when it was time for her lesson. She followed all his instructions without complaint, going through the complex form they’d been working on that involved controlling multiple water whips and ice daggers at the same time. She sparred with him, then with Pamuk. Finally, Amaruk declared it was time for a break.

 

“Actually,” Katara said, meeting his green gaze defiantly, “I’m done for today.”

 

Amaruk gave her a puzzled look. “Do you have something more important to do?”

 

“Yeah,” Katara replied, unable to fully suppress a cheeky grin. She knew he was going to hate this. “I’ve got lessons with Kida.”

 

Amaruk did not disappoint, scowling at her as if she’d insulted him personally. “I thought you had realized such things were beneath you.”

 

“Why?” Katara challenged, hands on her hips. “You didn’t think you were too good to learn from her until you failed. Why should I give it up, if I can actually do it?”

 

Amaruk blinked at her accusation. “You and Kida have been gossiping, I see,” he scoffed. “Do you really think that what this tribe needs is more healers? We need warriors, Katara.”

 

Katara raised her chin. “Well, what if I’m both?”

 

“Do one thing well, Katara,” Amaruk scolded her by way of reply. “Every moment you spend with Kida learning to treat stomach aches is time you’re not spending honing your skills at fighting.”

 

“And every moment I spend with you is time I’m not spending learning how to treat serious injuries,” Katara shot back. “My time is mine. I get to decide what the best way to use it is, not you.”

 

From then on, Katara spent at least a little bit of time each day in the healing hut. And Amaruk never asked her about bloodbending again.

 

* * *

 

_ Gaipan - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

Smellerbee studied the three of them, hands on her hips, as a few of her men dragged the prisoners off into the forest. “You guys are water tribe, right?” she asked, but went on without waiting for confirmation. “We don’t see many of you around here. North or South?”

 

“South,” Katara replied, closing her waterskin. Aang copied her, and Zuko likewise relaxed his fighting stance. Smellerbee didn’t look like she wanted any quarrel with them. Still, neither Zuko nor Katara volunteered any further information.

 

“You’re a long way from home, then,” Smellerbee observed. Zuko grimaced in spite of himself. “Let me guess, you’re part of that Underground the bigwig Ba Sing Se survivors organized?” When none of them answered, she elaborated, “The last messenger you sent up north passed through here. He managed not to run afoul of Jet, though.” She gave Zuko another appraising glance. “Bad luck about your eyes,” she said sympathetically. Zuko shrugged.

 

One of Smellerbee’s men, an archer with a broad-brimmed hat, came to her side. They exchanged a look without speaking. “You’re right,” Smellerbee said. “We should get moving.” Returning her attention to Zuko, she added, “You guys probably want to come with us. Jet will send more of his goons when those geniuses don’t come back.”

 

“No offense,” Katara said carefully, “but I think we’d rather just get out of the area.”

 

“You could do that,” Smellerbee agreed with a knowing grin. “But if I’m right, and you guys are headed for the North Pole, you need provisions before you cross the burned lands. And we can help you there.”

 

Katara and Zuko looked at each other again. Zuko thought it sounded too easy, that there must be some catch, something Smellerbee would want from them. But Katara’s look said they had few options. The enemy of an enemy wasn’t always a friend, but sometimes they were the best you could find.

 

They agreed, and Smellerbee led them off the road, through the underbrush, and eventually up to her treetop hideout by a series of ropes. “Jet used to hide from the Fire Nation this way,” she explained dryly. “Works just as well against him.”

 

“You knew him?” Aang asked curiously.

 

“Sure did,” Smellerbee answered, ushering them into one of the treehouses. Her silent lieutenant had gone ahead of them, and was already laying out a simple cold meal. “Longshot and I were among his first recruits.” She sat at the table, grabbed a handful of lychee nuts, and gestured for them to join her. Aang didn’t hesitate to tuck in, and Zuko and Katara sat on either side of him, across the table from Smellerbee. Longshot was the last to sit, by his captain’s side.

 

As they ate, Smellerbee went on to explain, without any prompting, how her faction had split from Jet’s shortly after the comet, when he had finally taken control of the town from the Fire Nation. Jet had killed or driven out anyone with Fire Nation blood, even if it was just one grandparent, and had then done the same to anyone who opposed him. Zuko got the distinct impression they were being given a recruitment speech.

 

“Jet says he’s keeping Gaipan free,” Smellerbee concluded bitterly. “But really he’s just grinding the town beneath his boot.”

 

“And yet your fighters seem better equipped than his,” Katara observed. Zuko had noticed the same thing - her men wore uniforms, wielded swords or bows, and fought in an efficient, organized manner, while Jet’s thugs were undisciplined, many with makeshift weapons, and seemed to rely more on brute strength than anything else. If Jet was in power and Smellerbee was on the out, it certainly didn’t look like it.

 

“We have a powerful backer,” Smellerbee admitted.

 

“But not one of the Ba Sing Se bigwigs?” Zuko asked.

 

“Look,” Smellerbee said, wiping her hands on the legs of her pants. “Let’s speak plainly: I want your help with something. Your Underground seems like good people, even if you’re a bit far removed from us simple folk up here. You help me get rid of Jet, I help you get where you’re going, and maybe it’s the beginning of a beautiful friendship.” She held out her hand. “What do you say?”

 

Zuko considered carefully. He had known there would be a catch. However, they had been sent north to find more allies. A suspiciously well-armed splinter cell fighting the warlord who had once been their leader wasn’t the sort of ally General Kwon had had in mind, but in their dire straits, could they afford to be choosy about where help came from?

 

“We’re grateful for your help so far, and sympathetic to your cause,” Zuko answered diplomatically, not taking her hand. “But what is it you’re asking us to do?”

 

“Fair enough,” Smellerbee replied. She stood, went to a crate by the wall, and removed a stack of leaflets. “We want to spread these around,” she said, setting the stack on the table.

 

Katara removed the leaflet from the top of the stack and read it aloud. “A warning to the people of Gaipan: the governor can hold back the armies of the Fire Nation no longer. If the warlord Jet does not surrender control of the town to the rightful mayor, the Fire Nation will burn Gaipan to the ground.” Katara frowned and looked up from the paper. “This sounds like a threat.”

 

“Of course it’s a threat,” Smellerbee replied. “It’s the Fire Nation. But it’s all true. Lord Moravid really has been holding them back as long as he could.” Zuko thought the governor’s name sounded familiar, but he couldn’t place it. It wasn’t a Fire Nation name, so it couldn’t have been someone he had known before his exile.

 

Aang had grabbed one of the leaflets as well and was studying it carefully. “What’s this?” he asked, pointing to the red stamp at the bottom, a flower with five petals and the characters for “justice” on either side.

 

“That’s Lord Moravid’s seal,” Smellerbee explained. “It’s the seal of a very old and respectable Earth Kingdom family.”

 

“Your plan is to spread propaganda from the Fire Nation’s provincial governor?” Katara asked, her eyes narrowed.

 

But Aang paid no attention to her reservations. He looked up at Zuko excitedly. “I saw this in my vision!” he exclaimed. “The woman I saw in the swamp, she gave me this flower! She was telling me to trust him!”

 

“How do you know she wasn’t warning you  _ not _ to trust him?” Katara asked skeptically. “You said she didn’t say anything except ‘not yet’. Sounds a bit ominous, if you ask me.”

 

“It was my spirit vision, and I’m the Avatar,” Aang protested. Smellerbee’s eyebrows shot up, but the boy didn’t seem to notice. “I think I know what it means,” he insisted.

 

“You don’t even know who the woman was,” Zuko pointed out sternly. He wished Aang hadn’t mentioned being the Avatar, but that catowl was out of the bag now.

 

“ _ Not yet _ I don’t,” Aang replied cheekily. “But I know the flower was a sign of something good, not something bad. You have to take my word on this.”

 

Smellerbee exchanged another wordless dialogue with Longshot, then nodded. “I don’t know anything about spirit visions,” she said carefully. “But Lord Moravid is trustworthy.”

 

“He’s your backer,” Zuko realized aloud, suddenly remembering where he had heard the name. When he was a child, a Fire Nation noblewoman had married into the Moravid family, Earth Kingdom gentry who had held on to their lands in the colonies. Zuko supposed that was how the governor had obtained his post. “You’re collaborating with Ozai’s functionary.”

 

“He’s collaborating with us,” Smellerbee corrected.

 

Zuko had already gotten to his feet, as had Katara. Only Aang and Longshot remained seated. “And the rightful mayor he’s appointed?” Zuko asked accusingly. “That’s you, isn’t it? Is this really about freeing the town, or just getting rid of your old rival so you can take his place?”

 

Smellerbee raised her chin defiantly. “It’s about making sure that no one has to live in fear anymore,” she said firmly. “I’m not ashamed of anything we’ve done to make that happen.”

 

“Even working with the people you’re supposed to be seeking freedom from?” Katara challenged.

 

“Lord Moravid is on our side,” Smellerbee insisted. “If your Underground had ever spared a thought for us up here in the northern provinces, instead of focusing everything on Omashu, you might know that.”

 

“I really think she’s right,” Aang said quietly, once again studying the seal on the leaflet. “I know it’s a risk,” he added, looking up at Zuko again. “But you said things were complicated here in the colonies. If people you’d expect to be on our side sometimes aren’t, why can’t people you’d expect to be against us sometimes turn out to be on our side?”

 

It sounded like such naïve reasoning. And yet...if the spirits in the swamp really had shown Aang this man’s symbol, that did have to mean something. Zuko’s own visions had hardly been pleasant, but it was only natural that the Avatar would fare better.

 

Aang turned his pleading eyes on Katara. “I know that you and Zuko know better than I do, most of the time,” he admitted. “But this time it’s a question of what the spirits are telling us, and for better or worse, I’m the expert on that here.” He got to his feet at last and held out the leaflet to Katara. “If you can’t trust Smellerbee or her people, trust me.” 

 

Katara hesitated, looking from Aang to Zuko. She took the leaflet from Aang’s hand and read it over again silently, frowning at the dire message.

 

“He has a point,” Zuko said softly.

 

“Alright,” Katara agreed reluctantly. “We’ll help you.” The look she gave Smellerbee nonetheless made it clear how wary she still was of the younger woman.

 

Aang grinned triumphantly, and Zuko hoped they weren’t making a huge mistake.


	14. The Warlord of Gaipan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aang, Katara, and Zuko aid Smellerbee in her plan to break Jet's hold on the town of Gaipan.
> 
> In the past, Zuko struggles to hold on to what little he can.

**Book I: Water**

 

**Chapter 13: The Warlord of Gaipan**

 

_ Gaipan - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

Smellerbee’s plan was to wait until dark to sneak into the town and distribute the leaflets. The gates would be closed, and guards would be on patrol, but Smellerbee’s Freedom Fighters had studied their routes and found blind spots in them. They’d go in groups of two and three, spreading the leaflets throughout the town as widely as they could, and hopefully Lord Moravid’s warning would inspire enough people to rise up against Jet that Smellerbee’s faction would be able to take him out at last.

 

It struck Katara as a desperate, far-fetched plan, and she said as much to Smellerbee when Aang and Zuko had gone off with Longshot to find darker clothing for Aang to wear at night. But Smellerbee shrugged off her concern, saying they’d run out of time for better strategies. She’d been fighting Jet for years without managing to unseat him. If they couldn’t do it now, the town was lost.

 

“Why did you want our help so badly?” Katara asked as the two of them packed the leaflets into canvas bags which would be easier to carry. “Your Freedom Fighters seem more than capable of sneaking into the town at night.”

 

“They are,” Smellerbee agreed proudly. “But I thought having a couple waterbenders along would be useful, especially if Jet’s goons didn’t know about it.” She tied one bag closed and began packing another. “It’s always good to have a few surprises up your sleeve.”

 

“Really?” Katara tied off the bag she had filled as well, but didn’t reach for another one. “That’s it?”

 

“What do you want me to say, Katara?” Smellerbee replied, halting in her work as well. “When I find people who can help our cause, I recruit them. It’s how I’ve kept this operation going for years.” She looked down and picked at her fingernails casually. “Your Underground connections could be helpful, too.”

 

Katara wished she could trust the younger woman as easily as she seemed to trust her. But without knowing anything more about her suspicious backer… “How did you win Lord Moravid over to your side?” she asked.

 

Smellerbee looked back up at her with a grin. “More easily than you,” she quipped. “His mother may have been Fire Nation, but like I said, the Moravids are an old Earth Kingdom family, and he hasn’t forgotten that.” She went back to her task of stuffing leaflets into bags. “All I had to do was show him the opportunity to subvert the Phoenix King’s rule a little, and he took it. Nominally, he was appointed by Ozai, but the governorship would have been his by right anyway, when his father died.”

 

“And when did his father die?” Katara asked, trying to work out the timeline of how long Smellerbee had had such a well-positioned ally.

 

Smellerbee thought for a moment. “About a year ago,” she said at last. “Right after he got married. His father had sent him south to find a wife, and he brought the girl back with him when he took the governor’s seat.” Smellerbee grimaced as if at an unpleasant memory. “I had hoped  _ she _ might have some connections that could help us, but  _ nobody _ gets to see Lady Moravid. The governor was quite insistent about that.”

 

Katara frowned as well. That didn’t paint a very cheery picture of the man they were supporting, if he kept his wife under lock and key. Even if he were truly on their side, that didn’t necessarily mean he was a good person. Katara certainly knew that from experience.

 

Smellerbee suddenly shook her head, grinning again “Listen to me, chattering on,” she said as if chiding herself, though Katara thought her girlish self-deprecating tone sounded rather affected. She fixed Katara with a knowing look. “How did you recruit your Fire Nation fellow?”

 

Katara blinked at her deliberately. “I don’t know what you mean,” she said innocently.

 

“Don’t insult my intelligence,” Smellerbee replied. “Your husband’s as Water Tribe as I am, and no Earth Kingdom mother would give her son a name like  _ Zuko. _ ” Katara mentally scolded Aang for being careless with their true names, but the younger woman laughed suddenly. “Pretty funny, you being suspicious of me for being in bed with the Fire Nation, isn’t it? When you’re definitely-”

 

“Alright,” Katara cut her off, before she could take the conversation in a really inappropriate direction. “Fine. You’re right. But Zuko came to our side on his own, more or less. I didn’t do anything.”

 

Smellerbee gave her a strange look. “I don’t buy that for a minute,” she said.

 

Perhaps Katara had exaggerated, but she didn’t feel like going over the whole story now with this woman she barely knew. “The important thing,” she insisted, “is that I know I can always count on him.”

 

“And I know we can count on Lord Moravid,” Smellerbee shot back.

 

Both of them went back to work after that, and said no more on the subject. Katara supposed she was just going to have to hope that Smellerbee’s trust was not misplaced. Either way, the sooner they accomplished what she wanted, the sooner they could be on their way to the North Pole, to resume the real purpose of their mission. She hated to think that the complicated politics of this particular corner of the Earth Kingdom were not her problem - obviously the fate of Gaipan mattered to the people who lived there, and it wasn’t like she didn’t care - but they did have a larger objective that she couldn’t lose sight of either.

 

When the bags were all packed, Katara went and found Zuko and Aang. While Zuko had kept his own dark blue clothes, Aang had traded his yellow shirt and orange shawl for the red and brown tunic of the Freedom Fighter’s uniform. Katara wasn’t sure she liked the implication of the Avatar in partisan colors, but she held her tongue, knowing it was at least more practical attire. She certainly didn’t want him sneaking into the town as a bright orange target, either.

 

That night, Smellerbee led them around to the northern side of the town, where there was nothing but empty grassland. The Freedom Fighters had brought more of their ropes and grappling hooks, and they climbed over the wall, landing in a deserted alleyway on the other side. So far, they had seen none of Jet’s men. Their reconnaissance had been good.

 

They split up to fan out through the city, each group on a predetermined route. Katara was allowed to stay together with Zuko and Aang, and Smellerbee did not insist on sending one of her own men with them, which Katara realized was a show of trust. They moved slowly and cautiously from shadow to shadow. They slipped the leaflets through the cracks under doors and between window shutters, but were careful not to leave any lying around in the street, lest one of Jet’s people find them and realize their presence in the town.

 

Zuko was responsible for keeping track of the time - it was a cloudy night with neither moon nor stars visible, but he had a good internal sense of these things. “We need to start heading back,” he whispered as Aang passed a leaflet under the door of a larger house towards the center of town.

 

“We haven’t done our whole route yet,” Aang protested quietly, but Katara wordlessly shook her head at him. They’d done enough. Getting left behind because they failed to make the rendezvous on time was not an appealing option. Zuko began to lead them back the way they had come, and Aang reluctantly followed.

 

When they were almost back at the meeting point, Zuko rounded a corner, then hastily stepped back, throwing out his arm to stop Aang from going any further. “Back,” he hissed urgently, and the three of them retreated into the shadows of the alley they had come from, just as Katara saw a pair of Jet’s men pass by on the broader main street.

 

“There’s nobody here,” the smaller of the two complained. He sounded young, barely older than Aang. His larger companion merely grunted in reply, looking around. Katara’s heart pounded as he peered into the darkness of the alley where they were hidden. He leaned forward.

 

A sudden gust of wind blew down the street, and both guards shielded their eyes in surprise. Katara didn’t have to look at Aang to know he was responsible. It was a risky move, but if it worked…

 

Something caught in the breeze smacked the younger guard in the face, and he caught hold of it. “What’s that?” his companion asked as the wind subsided. Katara felt her heart beat even faster. Neither of the guards seemed interested in what might be lurking in the alley anymore, but she recognized the paper in the younger guard’s hand. They’d only been spreading them all over town. They had been careful not to leave them lying in the open, but apparently not careful enough.

 

“Jet will want to see this,” the younger guard said resolutely, and the the pair of them ran off.

 

There was no time to contemplate their mistake. With all of Jet’s Freedom Fighters about to be alerted to the infiltration of the town, it was more urgent than ever that they regroup with Smellerbee and get out of there.

 

But it didn’t take long for them to notice the increased presence of Jet’s men hurrying about the streets. Several times they heard distant sounds of fighting, but dared not investigate. Lamps were starting to be lit in the windows of many houses as the increasing commotion woke the townspeople - not an insignificant number of whom took to the streets in violation of the curfew upon reading the messages that had been slipped under their doors. It was what they had hoped for, but it was all happening too fast, too soon. 

 

They had to backtrack several times to avoid being seen, and when Katara heard Zuko swear under his breath, she knew they were well past the deadline for the rendezvous. “Forget about finding the others,” she breathed, squeezing his hand. Their exit plan had fallen apart already, and it was time to improvise. “Let’s just get out of here, and meet up with them at their hideout.”

 

“Wait,” Aang protested. “If the townspeople are going to try to overthrow Jet right now, shouldn’t we stay and help them?” Before either Zuko or Katara could answer, the three of them had to press themselves into a doorway as a group of five angry men carrying torches rushed past. Three of Jet’s Freedom Fighters followed.

 

“Get back inside,” one of them barked, apparently mistaking them for civilians who were merely curious about the commotion. Katara watched them carefully as they ran. They were headed in the direction of the town hall.

 

Aang might have a point. Katara doubted Smellerbee would be retreating now. Still, they had done what they had promised her they would do. They were under no obligation to stick around for the fight. Then again, if Smellerbee’s Freedom Fighters didn’t prevail, they would be right back where they’d started, with no way to get the supplies they needed to reach the North Pole.

 

She looked at Zuko. He nodded. “I’ll stay,” he said curtly. “You get Aang to safety.”

 

Another squeeze of his hand, and then she grabbed Aang by the arm, all but dragging him down the street in the opposite direction that the men from before had gone. If the boy objected to being kept out of the fight again, he knew better than to complain about it now. Hopefully, running away from the town hall where it sounded like the mob was converging would mean they wouldn’t run into much resistance.

 

Hope, unfortunately, was not enough, and the group of twelve or so of Jet’s Freedom Fighters that they met in a small plaza on the western side of the town were apparently some of his best trained. When both Aang and Katara had been forced to their knees with their hands bound, the leader of the group inspected them carefully. “Well, well,” he drawled around the stalk of grass held between his teeth, plucking at the sleeve of Aang’s tunic. “Smellerbee’s found herself a couple of waterbenders, has she?”

 

* * *

 

_ Eastern Earth Kingdom - Nine Years Earlier _

 

After leaving Yaosai, Zuko avoided towns and settlements as much as possible. He’d learned his lesson - he was better off alone. He’d learned enough about living in the wilderness last year, when he’d been on the run from his sister, and while his skills as a hunter still left something to be desired, he was much better at trapping birds and small game, and had become good enough at foraging that he was confident in his ability to fend for himself now. 

 

Of course, last year he’d still had his uncle with him. He’d thought things had been bad then, but now he’d give anything to go back to that. But that was a futile wish. 

 

Now, having no one else around meant he didn’t have to worry about lying or hiding who he was. No one would give him funny looks because of his scar or his eye color, no one would ask him prying questions, no one would try to attack him or drive him off. If he just left the world alone, maybe the world would leave him alone, too.

 

He still had nightmares, though. Mostly they were reliving the day of the comet, but sometimes the old dreams about the Agni Kai or his mother would plague him as well. When he would wake in terror, shivering, with only a thin stolen blanket between him and the cold ground, then and only then would he allow himself to think about what Kwon and Gaozu had said about his father.

 

Their words had raised his ire then, and the memory of them still had a similar effect. It was an anger that kept him warm on those cold nights, at least interiorly, as inexplicable as it was. His father was the one responsible for all the horrific memories that haunted his sleep, and yet his instinct was still to defend him. It was an instinct so strong that it had cost him his last chance at some semblance of safety and comfort.

 

Uncle Iroh had tried to warn him that he gave his father too much credit. It was Zuko’s own blind devotion to Ozai, his foolish need to cry out for his father like a frightened child when he had seen him on the walls of Ba Sing Se, that had cost Iroh his life. He could see now that his uncle had been right all along. He could see how stupid he himself had been. He should hate Ozai now, should join in the Earth Kingdom elite’s longing for his ignominious death.

 

And yet…

 

That feeling of indignant anger was something he could hold onto, could use to feed his inner fire. It was something he could feel that wasn’t guilt or shame or worse. It was something like how he had felt in the early days of his banishment, only now there was no one to offer him calming tea or pester him with cryptic proverbs. Now the anger really was all he had.

 

Winter had been nearing its end when Zuko had fled from Yaosai. By the middle of spring, he had set up for himself a more or less permanent dwelling in a secluded valley in the foothills of the eastern mountains. He was far enough from any road or settlement that no one would intrude on his isolation. A stream running through the valley provided him with fresh water, though its rushing torrents subsided to a more modest trickle as spring turned to summer. It didn’t take much to support one person.

 

He knew his rough living was taking its toll on his clothes - the bright green of his tunic had faded to a dark khaki, and there were loose threads at the hems. On top of that, he’d somehow managed to gain a few more inches in height as his eighteenth birthday approached, and the legs of his trousers no longer stayed comfortably tucked into the tops of his boots. He knew at some point before the next winter he would have to risk venturing back into civilization to find more suitable clothing, but in the meantime he didn’t spare much thought for his appearance. It wasn’t like there was anyone around to see the shabby state of the former prince.

 

One warm night, after waking from yet another nightmare, he crawled out of his meager shelter to sit under the stars. Fists clenched, he stared up at the heavens and ran through his litany of grievances again. He had every right to be angry at the world, didn’t he? His whole life, he’d only really wanted one thing, and he didn’t think it had been unreasonable. What son wouldn’t want...why wasn’t he allowed...it couldn’t be  _ wrong _ , that longing for...so why had he only been punished for it, again and again?

 

He rubbed at his eyes with both fists - he was just tired, he was  _ not _ crying. He froze, then slowly uncurled his left hand, angling it back towards his ear so it covered nearly all of his scar. Four years, five months, and three days. He knew, without even having to count. It was such a part of him now, had been for so long. He might lose everything else that tied him to his old life, but he would never be free of that.

 

He wondered if his father realized he was still alive. If the Avatar fell into his hands tomorrow, and Zuko could somehow make his way home to fulfill his old quest at last, what would his father say?

 

“Oh, Zuko,” he imagined his father’s disinterested voice. “You captured the Avatar? Well, your sister has captured three Avatars while you were away. At least try to keep up.”

 

He managed a short laugh at his own absurd thought, but there wasn’t much mirth in it. In one way, he knew that there was truth in that wild hypothetical scenario: not even the miraculous return of the Avatar would do him any good now.

 

* * *

 

_ Gaipan - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

Distant shouts and other sounds of fighting continued, but the plaza where they were remained dark and mostly silent as the man with the stalk of grass in his mouth stared down Aang. He looked like he was about in his mid-twenties, and the rest of the Freedom Fighters who had intercepted them clearly deferred to him. Katara guessed he must be one of Jet’s lieutenants. He must have been part of Jet’s gang for some time, if he knew Smellerbee.

 

Aang, wisely, said nothing.

 

The rest of the Freedom Fighters seemed less concerned with their prisoners. They kept looking anxiously behind them, back towards the center of town. “Looks like they’re trying to burn down the town hall,” one of them observed. “Shouldn’t we go do something about that?”

 

“The Duke can handle it,” their leader replied, unconcerned. He turned his attention from Aang to Katara. “What I’d like to know is where Smellerbee found these two.”

 

“Are you sure, Jet?” one of the other Freedom Fighters asked nervously.

 

The leader, apparently none other than Jet himself, glared at him. “Of course I’m sure,” he snapped.

 

Aang gasped. “You’re the warlord of Gaipan?” Katara understood his surprise. Somehow, though Smellerbee had never given them a physical description, she’d imagined an older, weathered, bitter-looking man. She’d expected a face that betrayed cynicism and greed, but this young man still had the fresh look of youthful idealism. That only made what she knew of his cruelty all the more unsettling.

 

“The Fire Nation calls me the warlord of Gaipan,” Jet corrected Aang, his tone easy again. “That’s the only type of leadership they can imagine, I guess.” He shrugged dramatically, then crouched down so he was at Aang’s eye level. “But I’m nobody’s lord or master. I don’t need any kind of title for myself. I’m just here to make sure this town stays free.”

 

“It doesn’t sound like you’ve been doing a very good job,” Katara said, slowly drawing water from the air and even a bit of her own sweat and letting it pool in her bound hands. If she could gather enough for a small ice dagger, she could cut herself free. Aang still had his airbending up his sleeve as well. But she knew it would be better to hold off on an escape attempt until Jet’s men tried to move them.

 

Jet cocked his head in her direction, giving her a patient smile. He did have a sort of easy charm, when he wanted to use it. Katara could see how this man was able to amass a following in spite of his brutal tactics. “I’m sure Smellerbee’s told you all kinds of things about me,” he drawled, removing the ridiculous stalk of grass from his teeth and twirling it between his fingers. “But I don’t know why you’d trust someone who’s openly working with the enemy.”

 

“I think it’s pretty clear that  _ you’re _ the enemy,” Aang said hotly, “given all the people you’ve killed.”

 

Jet didn’t even flinch at the accusation. “The only people I’ve killed have been Fire Nation, or the people who helped them,” he said calmly. “I’d have thought the Avatar of all people would understand that these Fire Nation scum are a plague on the earth.”

 

Aang blinked in surprise, and Katara tried to discreetly signal him to be quiet, but the boy paid no attention to her. “What...what makes you think I’m the Avatar?” he spluttered nervously.

 

“Stories are getting around,” Jet replied, tapping the arrow on Aang’s forehead almost playfully. Aang flinched away from his touch. “I don’t let a few rumors get my people’s hopes up prematurely, but I certainly keep an ear to the ground myself.” He gripped Aang’s chin, and Katara formed a shard of ice in her hands, and began furtively working at the ropes that bound her. But Jet only went on talking in that same calm, almost friendly manner. “These past years, I’ve only been doing your job while you were nowhere to be found, little Avatar.”

 

“It’s not my job to kill people,” Aang protested. “It’s my job to restore peace, to keep the balance between all the nations.”

 

“Have you forgotten what the Fire Nation did to  _ your _ nation?” Jet asked, his voice rising for the first time. “There’s no such thing as balance in this world. Not anymore.”

 

“I don’t believe that,” Aang insisted. Katara felt the first coil of rope around her wrists snap, and she wriggled her arms as subtly as she could, loosening the rest. One of Jet’s Freedom Fighters still had her waterskin, but once her arms were free that wouldn’t be a problem.

 

Jet stood, and shrugged again. “You’ll learn.”

 

Most likely he would have turned his attention back to Katara then, and might have even noticed she had nearly slipped her bonds. But she was spared by the Freedom Fighters frantically shouting their leader’s name and pointing into the distance behind them. She heard a distant rushing sound of something flying through the air, and then an explosive impact. Two more blasts followed in quick succession.

 

“Fire Nation catapults,” Jet said darkly. “I guess Smellerbee’s friends are here.” He reached down and hauled Aang to his feet, then shoved the boy towards one of his men, gesturing for another the take hold of Katara. She suppressed a grin seeing her guard was the same man who held her waterskin. Oh, he was going to regret that mistake.

 

“Take them to the west gate prison,” Jet ordered the two men. “The rest of you, with me.” He drew his own weapons, two hook-shaped swords. “We’re going to have lots of firebenders to kill today.”

 

He led most of his Freedom Fighters off towards the fighting, where Katara could now see the orange glow of distant flames. It looked like the town hall had been set on fire - whether by the Fire Nation attackers or the mob, she couldn’t say. The two men who had been assigned to Aang and Katara dragged them away towards the west, but as soon as they were alone, Katara broke free and pulled all the water from her waterskin, making quick work of the two surprised men. She then hastily untied Aang.

 

“I thought Smellerbee said Lord Moravid was going to hold off the army,” Aang said, watching in confusion as more fireballs were catapulted towards the town from the south.

 

“She did,” Katara replied. “So either he lied, or he failed, or…”

 

“They followed us,” Aang realized in dismay. “This is my fault.”

 

“You don’t know that,” Katara chided him, though she had considered the possibility herself. If Jet knew the Avatar was in the colonies, so could any number of Fire Nation officials. If they’d been spotted on their flight north from the mining town… But there was no time to dwell on that now. Whatever the reason, the town was under attack, and she had to get Aang out of here. She grabbed his hand, and was about to urge him to run, when she heard hurried footsteps approaching. They ducked behind a cart that had been left in the street instead.

 

It was a group of Smellerbee’s Freedom Fighters, their faces sooty and their uniforms singed but otherwise looking unharmed. Katara stepped out from their hiding place.

 

“What’s going on?” she asked. The Freedom Fighters turned in surprise to see her. One of them, a young woman who had been introduced to Katara that afternoon as Lightfoot, raised a hand and pointed towards the blaze that was quickly enveloping more and more of the southern half of the town.

 

“Smellerbee ordered us to fall back,” Lightfoot explained breathlessly. “The rest are coming.”

 

Aang had come back out into the open as well. “Who’s attacking the town?” he demanded. “Your governor was supposed to be on our side,”

 

“He is,” Lightfoot insisted, giving Aang a frustrated look. “But even Lord Moravid can’t control a man like Zhao.”

 

* * *

 

_ Eastern Earth Kingdom - Eight Years Earlier _

 

A whole year passed since Zuko had left Yaosai. He’d risked a single trip to the nearest town at the end of the previous summer, to trade fur pelts from the small game he’d snared for new clothes, and a few other things as well - most importantly, a real steel knife to replace the makeshift stone ones he’d been using. No one had asked him any questions, but he knew better than to let that fool him into thinking he’d find any kind of safety there. Those people might have been willing to do business with a stranger, but if they knew who he was, if they knew what he was, they would hate him. The things he needed acquired, he’d hastily retreated back into the wilderness.

 

He made it through that winter, not in what anyone would call comfort, but well enough. He was pretty sure he had come down with a serious fever at one point, but wary of seeking any kind of help, he had merely concentrated on his inner fire to regulate his body temperature. It wasn’t a technique he’d ever used while he was sick before, and it was meant to keep him from getting too cold, not too hot, but applying the same principle in reverse seemed to do the trick, and he came through the illness unscathed.

 

Spring inevitably arrived, and the new year - the start of Zuko’s second year on his own. The stream swelled again as the snows higher up in the mountains melted. Having made it through all four seasons almost lifted his spirits a little. It certainly gave him more confidence in himself. He knew he could do this now. The nightmares hadn’t stopped, and likely never would, but he had survived. He might not have anyone on his side, but he’d proved that he didn’t need help from anyone. He could take care of himself. He could keep going, no matter how hard it was.

 

_ Never forget who you are _ , they had told him, and maybe this was it, who he was. Not someone who made all the right choices, or was gifted and accomplished like his sister, or honored and beloved like his uncle, or respected and feared like his father, but just someone who survived. Maybe that was all he needed to be.

 

That realization should have given him pause. Self-awareness was the key to contentment, Uncle had once told him, and he should have known contentment was too close to happiness, and the spirits were never going to let him be happy.

 

Summer brought with it a drought. The stream shrank to a trickle no wider than his hand, the grass dried up and turned brown and the trees started to wither. Game became scarce, and Zuko found himself going hungry and thirsty on most days. Still, he was loathe to leave the valley that had sheltered him. There were too many dangers, out there in the wider world. Too many people. Better to stay where he was, for now, and pray for rain. Eventually, it had to come.

 

What came instead were bandits.

 

He heard them first, rough voices arguing in the dry night air after he had laid down but before he had fallen asleep. He reached for his knife and gripped it tight, but didn’t move. Perhaps they would simply go away on their own.

 

The voices came nearer. It sounded like there were three of them, debating how to split their ill-gotten spoils. They must have come out into the wilderness thinking they could avoid being caught that way, that they would find no one here.

 

Well, they were almost right. Zuko just about fit the definition of “no one” these days.

 

“Hey,” the deepest of the three voices said. “I thought you said nobody lived out here.”

 

“Yeah, what do you call that?” chimed in the second voice, higher and nasally. Zuko sat up into a crouching position, weighing his options quickly. His shelter, unimpressive as it was, was clearly man-made. Perhaps they’d take it for nothing more than a hunter’s blind. Or perhaps not.

 

“Anybody there?” the third voice called out gruffly. Determined footsteps came pounding nearer across the dry brush, and Zuko decided not to wait to be discovered. He scrambled out of the shelter and sprang to his feet, knife held out in front of him. The short, stocky man who had been approaching halted in his tracks.

 

“Go away,” Zuko said firmly. He didn’t care who these men were or what they were doing. He wasn’t looking for a fight. He just wanted to be left alone.

 

The stocky man’s companions quickly flanked him - one tall and wiry, the other bald and missing quite a few teeth. “You know, I think we like it here,” the ringleader said in his gruff voice. “Why don’t you go away?” He placed one hand on the hilt of his own knife, rather larger than Zuko’s, but didn’t draw it. His buddies reached for weapons of their own.

 

The smart thing to do would have been to retreat, if they were giving him the chance. He had no reason to fight these men. But, stupidly, he didn’t want to leave his valley. There wasn’t anything of value here, except that for the last year it had been  _ his _ . “I was here first,” he said hotly. His grip on his knife tightened, and his eyes flicked between the three bandits, waiting to see who would make the first move.

 

Perhaps he did want to fight them, too. It had been so long since he’d been in a good fight.

 

Baldy struck first, wielding a hammer, which Zuko ducked away from. The tall one came at him next with an axe, but fell back as Zuko slashed at him with his knife. A kick from the ringleader sent him to his knees, but another swipe of his blade caught the man on the arm. He hissed in pain and drew his own knife, but Zuko had gotten back to his feet and blocked his attacks. Things went on like that for what seemed like a long time, Zuko fending off all three of them, but he could feel himself being forced further and further downstream, away from his shelter and out of the valley. He was losing ground.

 

Briefly, he considered firebending. He knew he could end this fight right now and leave no living witnesses, if he wanted to. But the dry brush under his feet stayed his fire. The entire valley might go up like a tinderbox if he did that, and the wildfire would quickly spread beyond his control.

 

A blow from the axe caught him on the shoulder, and he stumbled away, blind with pain. “Let him go,” he distantly heard the ringleader of the bandits say. “That’ll be a death wound. There’s no one out here to help him.”

 

* * *

 

_ Gaipan - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

They were soon joined in the plaza by Smellerbee and the others - including, much to Katara’s relief, Zuko. The cart was turned over to make part of a barricade, and paving stones pulled up to pile around it, though they all knew such a barrier would not hold off a squadron of firebenders for long. Some of the Freedom Fighters had burns, which Katara tended to but didn’t full heal, not wanting to use up all her water.

 

Some of Jet’s men had wound up with them as well. In the fight against a common enemy, the rift between the two factions had apparently seemed to be of less consequence, at least to the rank and file. They still eyed Smellerbee and her Freedom Fighters with distaste - and Smellerbee’s men returned the dirty looks - but no one looked ready to risk infighting as they waited for Zhao’s soldiers to fall upon them once more.

 

Katara knew that getting Aang to safety was an even greater priority now, but they had no idea who or what else might be lurking beyond the walls of Gaipan. Longshot was still missing - Smellerbee had sent him to do reconnaissance - and until he returned she and Zuko agreed it was best to stay put, for the time being.

 

But while they were still waiting for Longshot, Jet found them first. He had more of his men in tow - apparently they had decided on a strategic retreat as well. Every person in the plaza tensed as the two groups stared each other down, though none looked more nervous than those members of Jet’s faction who had been caught in the company of their rivals.

 

“Fancy meeting you here, Smellerbee,” Jet drawled, breaking the silence first. He still had both his hook-swords drawn. “You have a little spat with your Fire Nation friends? Didn’t I always say they’d betray you one day?”

 

“Zhao has never been my friend,” Smellerbee shot back. She held her own sword low, but Katara saw how her knuckles whitened. “So he can’t betray me. Unlike you.”

 

“Funny,” Jet said, thought he scowl on his face suggested he found it anything but, “I remember it the other way around.”

 

“Do you think you guys could call it a truce for now?” Aang cautiously piped up. No one else had wanted to get between the two of them, but trust the Avatar to feel the need to play peacemaker. Katara supposed that was to his credit. “Neither of you wants Zhao to destroy the town,” he reminded them. “Why don’t you focus on that?”

 

Smellerbee looked about to agree, but Jet spoke first. “I’ll accept anyone here who wants to follow my lead,” he declared with a sweeping gesture of the sword in his left hand, before pointing it at Smellerbee. “But not her.”

 

Smellerbee raised the point of her own sword. “Jet,” she cautioned, “stop being an idiot. Zhao’s soldiers will be here any minute.” As if to prove her point, a volley of arrows rained down on them. Everyone ducked for what cover they could find, though for Jet and Smellerbee standing in the middle of the plaza, that wasn’t much. Two of Jet’s men fell. Smellerbee’s own archers quickly returned fire. But, Katara noted with dismay, Longshot was still not among them.

 

The first wave of fireballs followed the arrows, and the fight began in earnest. Zuko put out or redirected as many of the flames as he could while also returning fire. Aang made to move from the doorway where he and Katara had taken cover, but Katara grabbed him by the shoulders and forcibly held him in place. Freedom Fighters from both factions held the barricades - some of Jet’s men were earthbenders, and hurled stones into into the advancing Fire Nation troops, while Smellerbee’s archers continued to fire on them. 

 

But if they had been able to put aside their differences, their leaders had not. Instead of taking charge of the battle, Jet had attacked Smellerbee, and the two were now fighting as intensely as only two swordsmen who knew each other well could.

 

Over the din of the fighting, Katara heard Smellerbee make another gruff appeal to Jet as their blades clashed, but he did not relent. “You allied yourself with a Fire Nation collaborator against me,” he accused, pressing on his attack.

 

“Okay, okay, I’ll stay here,” Aang promised, pushing Katara’s hands from his shoulders. “Shouldn’t you at least try to help Smellerbee?”

 

But before Katara could do or say anything in reply, Smellerbee lunged sharply to her right - a risky feint that left her open to attack on her left side - then knocked Jet’s feet out from under him with a low swipe of her leg. He dropped one of his swords as he fell. A stray fireball burned through the air where his head had been a moment earlier, impacting on the street behind him instead.

 

Smellerbee recovered and stood first. “And against Zhao,” she declared, “I’d even ally myself with you.” She lowered her sword, and extended her hand to her one-time friend.

 

Jet hesitated for a moment, but took her hand, allowed her to help him to his feet. Then he swung at her again with the sword he still held in his left hand. Smellerbee ducked out of the way, raising her own blade again, but she never got the chance to use it. Satisfied Aang really wasn’t going anywhere, Katara sprang into action, catching Jet on the side of the head with a water whip that left him stunned. Smellerbee kicked his other sword out of his hand and knocked him on the head with the pommel of her sword. He fell again, unconscious.

 

At some point, Longshot had returned. No one had seen or heard him come. He looked from Jet’s unconscious form, to Smellerbee, who wore a look of hurt and betrayal - but not surprise. “I know,” she said. “But it was worth a try.” The two of them dragged Jet out of the center of the plaza towards the doorway where Aang had obediently remained, shoving him unceremoniously into the empty house. Katara and Aang followed them inside.

 

Longshot gave Smellerbee a report of his reconnaissance using hand signs and other gestures. “That’s something, then,” Smellerbee said with a nod when he was done. Turning to Katara, she interpreted, “Zhao’s troops came up the river from the south and they’ve got the east gate blocked, but the west is still clear, for now.” She turned back to Longshot. “Go get Zuko.”

 

Longshot ducked back out into the fray to follow his orders, and Smellerbee addressed Aang. “Thank you for your help, Avatar,” she said sincerely. Aang looked down at his boots, as if embarrassed. “I’m not going to give up fighting for this town. But you have bigger things to do, and you need to get out of here while you still can.”

 

“I barely even did anything,” Aang protested. “And it’s my fault Zhao attacked the town and ruined everything.”

 

Smellerbee sighed, looking towards the corner where Jet was slumped, still unconscious. “This was never going to go as smoothly as we wanted it to,” she admitted. “Even with Lord Moravid’s help.” She looked back at Aang. “But your instincts about him were good, okay? Remember that. If you find yourself in this province again and in need of an ally, he’s someone you can trust.”

 

Longshot returned, with Zuko in tow. Katara immediately grabbed her husband’s hand. They weren’t out of danger yet, but she knew he needed the reassurance as much as she did.

 

Smellerbee told Longshot to escort them out of the town through the west gate, get them back to the hideout, and see that they were adequately provisioned for their trip north. Longshot nodded, and Smellerbee was about to duck out of the house and dive back into the fray when Katara grabbed her arm. “You’re sure?” she asked. “You could still use our help.”

 

“The world could use his help a whole lot more,” Smellerbee replied with a nod in Aang’s direction. “Get him where he needs to be. You know what it takes to win a war, Katara.”

 

Katara let her go, and a moment later the three of them followed Longshot out as well. The archer moved as quickly as he did silently, and they had to hurry to keep up with him, but they made it back to the Freedom Fighters’ hideout without any further trouble. Longshot stuck around just long enough to see Appa’s saddle fully stocked, then offered them a mere parting wave before disappearing back into the forest, no doubt to return to Smellerbee’s side.

 

None of them spoke as Zuko took the reins and got Appa in the air. Well-rested, the bison climbed quickly, and at the back of the saddle, Aang and Katara could soon see the town of Gaipan shrinking into the distance behind them. More than half of it was lit up with yellow and orange flames.

 

“What will happen to them?” Aang asked softly, folding his arms on the rim of the saddle and resting his chin on top.

 

Katara laid one hand on his back. “I don’t know,” she admitted.

 

They flew on in silence as the sun broke over the horizon, a straight course to the north, into the barren emptiness of the burned lands.


	15. The Scorched Earth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aang and his guardians must cross the desolate northern Earth Kingdom, which was burned during the passage of Sozin's Comet ten years earlier.
> 
> In the past, Katara is tired of being left behind, and decides to do something about it.

**Book I: Water**

 

**Chapter 14: The Scorched Earth**

 

_ Northern Earth Kingdom - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

Shortly after dawn, Katara took the reins, and Zuko climbed back into the saddle. He found Aang already asleep, with Momo curled on top of him. He was still wearing the red and brown tunic of the Freedom Fighters, not having bothered to change. His face was smooth and peaceful, making him look even younger than usual. Zuko was relieved to see the boy at least seemed to be sleeping well.

 

But Zuko opted for meditation rather than trying to sleep himself. He was fairly certain there were no other living firebenders who could say they had meditated on the back of a flying sky bison, but he found it actually easier, in spite of how the wind fought against the small flame he held cupped in his hands. Up here, the sunlight felt stronger, its energy more raw. It was fresh, lively, and invigorating.

 

It was a sharp contrast to the emptiness below them.

 

In the southern reaches of the burned lands, there had been some regrowth in the decade since the comet. But it was all short grass and thorny weeds, which looked particularly drab and ugly in the winter. They hadn’t needed parkas for a while, but they were leaving the tropic zones behind them now, and the weather was shifting from mild, if wet, to cold and dry. When he had traveled through this region with his uncle, on their way to Ba Sing Se all those years ago, it had been lush and green. But it was his own father who had destroyed all that, like he had destroyed so many things. And here, the recovery seemed even slower.

 

The fire in his hands did not jump or flicker in the slightest at that thought the way it once would have. Especially up here, bathed in the warmth of Agni’s life-giving rays, that was all old, dull pain which no longer ruled him. The flame rose and fell in time with his steady breathing, and pulsed in tune with his heartbeat. His wife, his son, the child sleeping not far from him who was the world’s best hope - he’d known loss, yes, but so much gain as well.

 

But the barren wastelands they were crossing now had not shown such resilience. After about an hour of flying, even the dry scrub gave way to bare earth, dark and dusty, as if the ground itself had turned to fine ash. The bright sun only made the landscape more stark, and the cloudless sky looked more gray than blue. There was no sound but the wind, an eerie almost-silence as they passed over rolling black hills. Neither Zuko nor Katara said anything.

 

Aang woke, rubbing his eyes, and crawled towards the front of the saddle where Zuko was seated. His mouth dropped open when he saw the dull, empty expanse before them. The red in his tunic, while not very bright, seemed to stand out sharply in the colorless landscape, more so than the blue that Zuko and Katara wore.

 

“Wow,” Aang said after a moment. “Does it all look like this?”

 

“As far as I know, yeah,” Zuko replied softly. He had never seen the burned lands himself, not since he had fled the ruins of Ba Sing Se with the other refugees all those years ago. But Sokka had told him the generals in the east had sent expeditions to investigate if it would be possible to rebuild the Earth Kingdom capital. Their reports had been decidedly negative.

 

Aang continued to stare, wide-eyed. “There’s really nothing left,” he said, half to himself. Then he lapsed into a morose silence. Zuko couldn’t help thinking of what his uncle had said, that it was their responsibility to stop Ozai, in the absence of the Avatar. Aang hadn’t been there when the world needed the Avatar, but he’d been trapped in an iceberg, helpless and unaware of what was happening. But Zuko had been there. He had known what was going on. He could have chosen differently.

 

“None of this is your fault,” Zuko told Aang. The boy looked at him as if he wanted to disagree, but didn’t say anything. Silence reigned once more, the winds picking up speed as they flew onward through the seemingly endless, never changing wasteland. When the sun reached its peak, Aang wordlessly climbed down onto Appa’s head and took the reins, and Katara joined Zuko in the saddle.

 

“There’s not much to do there, anyway,” Katara remarked softly, settling against the rim of the saddle at Zuko’s side. “At this point our course is just a straight shot north.” When they spoke at all, none of them wanted to use more than hushed tones. There was something oppressive in the atmosphere, as if they were passing through a cemetery. Zuko supposed that was an apt comparison.

 

The sunlight was bright, though the air was still cold and the sky oddly colorless. Agni poured his energy out upon this barren land in abundance, and yet nothing grew, as if the earth itself remembered how Agni’s servant had been the one to burn it, and had scorned the very sun ever since.

 

Katara leaned against him tiredly. She hadn’t slept since their flight from Gaipan. Zuko put an arm around her, drawing her closer, and she rested her head against his chest and closed her eyes. Zuko tilted his head back, his own eyes drifting shut as well. By all rights he should be just as tired as Katara, but he knew he’d never be able to sleep with the sun so high. He could feel its energy, so potent, and yet unable to restore life to this broken land. Something was missing.

 

_ Agni shines while Kaze breathes _

_ Apas rains and Tsuchi yields _

 

The words came to him vaguely, like a half-remembered dream, accompanied by a feeling of nostalgia. He thought his mother must have taught him the little poem when he was very young. There might have been more to it, but he had forgotten. It was clearly about the four elements, though he had never understood it much beyond that.

 

He opened his eyes and looked out at their surroundings again. They had left the hills behind and flew over flat plains now. Other than that, nothing had changed.

 

If Aang mastered all four elements, if they defeated his father, could the balance really be restored? Could this world be healed, or would it, like him, always bear these scars?

 

A strong gust of wind hit them from the northeast, colder air which had stirred up some of the black dust beneath them, giving it a sooty scent like wood ash. It reminded Zuko of those horrible days just after the comet’s passage, when everything had smelled like that. Only then, the air had been thick with haze and smoke that had burned his eyes and his lungs, and he had been alone.

 

Without opening her eyes, Katara hunched her shoulders slightly against the chill wind, pressing herself closer to him. Her hand clenched into a fist where it rested over his heart.

 

* * *

 

_ South Pole - Eight Years Earlier _

 

Three weeks after Sokka left, a merchant ship came to the South Pole. The captain, a man named Hobi, was well known to the tribe. He had been stopping by to trade grain for furs at least once a year, even before the northern delegation had come. They’d had little to offer him back then, especially in the bitter years when Sokka had been the only hunter in the village. But he had always come. Katara had a feeling he felt a sense of obligation towards them, and would have given them food even if they didn’t have a single pelt to give him in exchange. She should have been grateful, but had always had to fight a vague resentment for his charity.

 

This year, he brought not just rice, but news as well. He had met Sokka’s war party on its way north, and told them what little he knew about the rebels in the Earth Kingdom who might be of assistance to them, as well as the last he had heard of Hakoda’s party. They had sunk a Fire Nation patrol boat off the western coast of the Earth Kingdom, but lost one of their own, Audrak.

 

The other women had comforted the warrior’s widow when she heard the news, joining in her mournful keening. But Katara had known most of them were grateful that their own husbands or brothers had not been killed. She had been grateful to know her father was still alive, truly, but again, she couldn’t stop the resentment from creeping in.

 

They had to trust that the warriors had given Audrak a proper funeral, but Inuk made offerings to Tokusok that night, the blood of a snow gull poured out into the sea for the safe passage of the warrior’s spirit. The adults who had gathered for the ceremony sang a mourning song, and Katara watched the dark red blood dissipate into the churning waters.

 

The next day, rather than her usual healing lesson in the afternoon, Katara found herself working alongside all the women. Ikino and Pamuk had returned from a fishing trip that morning will nets full to bursting, and between cleaning, salting, and packing all the fish, there was much to be done.

 

Katara was given a knife and set to gutting the fish. Minak would bring over baskets of fish from the women who were scaling and washing them, then Katara would split them open and toss the guts into a shallow pan. Kida worked alongside her, at the messy task of sorting through the fish guts - some of the inedible organs had medicinal properties, the rest would be used as fertilizer. Katara would hand the gutted fish to Siaja, who would pack them with salt. The newly wed young woman would clearly suppress a grimace every time she caught sight of what Kida was doing.

 

“What’s the matter, Siaja?” Minak asked as she set down another basket. “Feeling a bit queasy?” Katara rolled her eyes at the girl’s teasing tone. Minak had been sixteen for all of six days, and one would think she was already the wisest of the old women, the way she carried on. Katara knew very well what she was implying, and how much Minak would like to be the first one of the women to spot it. But she also knew it was still too early for such things. The wedding had been barely over a month ago.

 

“Only when you open your mouth, Minak,” Siaja shot back with a glare. Minak laughed and flounced away. 

 

Kida shook her head. “Don’t let that girl bother you, she’s barely more than a child,” the older woman said. “And if you need something to settle your stomach, come see me later,” she added in a lower voice.

 

Siaja blushed and nodded, avoiding looking at Kida - though that might have been as much out of disgust at the fish innards as it was out of shame. Katara stared at her, then at Kida, scandalized. The whole time the women had teased Siaja about her wedding night, she had already been…

 

“Close your mouth, Katara, you’ll catch flies,” Kida admonished. “She and her husband anticipated things a bit. There are worse crimes.”

 

It was Siaja who responded. “We shouldn’t have,” she insisted, still blushing furiously. “We’ll have to offer reparation, when the time comes.” A child conceived outside the bonds of wedlock would be in great danger, unless the parents sought out the proper spiritual protection. But to have to go to the shaman and ask him to perform the rituals...Katara couldn’t imagine anything more humiliating.

 

“And you think we northern women are prudish,” Kida commented dryly. She rapped her knuckles against the pan, which was now empty, and Katara hastily got back to work on the fish in her hands. She didn’t like how flippantly Kida spoke of these things, but she supposed it was a done deal one way or another. Siaja and Ikino would set things right with the spirits when the child was born, and there was nothing else to be done in the meantime.

 

“What do you even use that stuff for?” Siaja asked, wrinkling her nose, no doubt desperate for a change of subject. Katara dropped the guts of the fish she held into the pan with a wet plop, then handed Siaja the fish.

 

“The gallbladder is used for many different eye ailments,” Kida replied, holding up the organ in question before tossing it into one of the jars at her side. “And the heart and liver are good for helping invalids regain their strength.” The older woman grinned mischievously. “They’re also ingredients in a remedy for...marital difficulties.”

 

Siaja laughed, and it was Katara’s turn to blush as she hastily dropped the next mass of fish guts into the pan. Neither of them asked Kida any more questions for a while. Katara’s hands and the towel over her lap were slick with bright red blood. The full moon was coming soon, Katara thought involuntarily. She wondered if she’d ever find herself in an extreme situation, like Kida had said, where she’d need to use bloodbending to save someone’s life. It didn’t seem likely, if she stayed in the village.

 

“None of the other elements can heal, can they?” Katara suddenly said aloud. Siaja gave her a strange look at the seemingly random question, but Kida only shrugged.

 

“Not that I’ve ever heard of,” the older woman said. “But I’m a master waterbender, I don’t know much about earthbending or firebending.”

 

Katara was silent again for a moment. She wondered about the airbenders. Everyone in the village had seen more firebenders than they would have liked, and some of the elders remembered the days when more Earth Kingdom ships would come to trade with them, sometimes with earthbenders on board. But there was no one living who could remember the Air Nomads. They were little more than stories now, as distant as the legends of the Avatars.

 

“What about Avatar Kuruk?” Siaja asked. “Wasn’t he a healer?” Katara remembered Nivi had once told her something like that. If the spirit of healing did not grant her gifts to men, had he used another element to heal?

 

“The story goes,” Kida explained, dropping a few more organs into her jars and discarding the rest of the contents of the pan into the bucket of fertilizer, “that during Kuruk’s tenure as Avatar there was an assassination attempt on the Fire Lord. Kuruk failed to prevent the attack, but he saved the Fire Lord’s life nonetheless, by healing his wounds.”

 

“He saved the Fire Lord?” Katara asked, frowning.

 

“This was long before the war, remember,” Kida reminded her. “When the four nations lived in harmony.” She wrinkled her nose uncomfortably, as if she had an itch, then rubbed at the spot with the relatively clean side of her wrist. “Anyway, I don’t know if he did it with waterbending, or another element, or some power known only to the Avatar. I don’t even know if it really happened, to be honest.”

 

Katara handed another fish to Siaja. “But if none of the other elements have healers…”

 

Kida set her hands on either side of the rim of the pan, looking straight at Katara. “I believe that we were given this gift because the spirits saw our need,” she explained. Katara set her knife down to give the older woman her full attention. “Our element is beautiful,” Kida went on, “and there’s nothing to compare with being surrounded by it, but the poles are not hospitable environments. Healing has been crucial for the flourishing of our tribes.” She gave Katara a pointed smile. “Even more so than the warriors, in my opinion.”

 

Katara refused to let herself be baited by the comment. “So the resistance in the Earth Kingdom has no healers,” she concluded.

 

“None who use bending, most likely,” Kida agreed. “Though it’s likely they have someone with knowledge of medicine.”

 

“But how much better would it be if they had waterbending healers?” Katara wondered aloud. “What if my dad had been able to take a healer with him? Maybe Audrak would still be alive.”

 

“Maybe,” Kida agreed. “In the north, we haven’t sent out war parties in a long time, but I think it used to be the custom that they would take a healer with them.”

 

Siaja spoke up again. “Are you regretting not going with Sokka?” she asked Katara pointedly.

 

Katara shrugged. “Am I wrong to worry about him?” she asked defensively. He was her brother, and her father’s heir, and with her father not showing any sign of returning to his responsibilities at home any time soon, that was even more important.

 

Minak came over with another basket of fish. She didn’t say anything this time, merely setting down the fresh batch and taking back the previous basket, now empty, but as Katara watched Amaruk’s daughter walk away she thought she regretted the fact that Sokka had left almost as much as the fact that she had stayed.

 

Later that night, as she and Gran Gran cooked two of the fish that hadn’t been salted and preserved for their own dinner, Katara had another idea.

 

“Why doesn’t the council meet anymore?” she asked suddenly as she carefully took the hot fish off the coals. She remembered her mother and father presiding over council meetings when she was young, but there hadn’t been one in years.

 

Gran Gran didn’t show any sign of being surprised by the question, but then, she rarely seemed surprised by anything. She hadn’t even blinked when Katara had told her what she’d learned about Siaja that afternoon. “After the last raid,” she said quietly, “when there were so few of us left, it seemed like there was little point.”

 

Katara set the fish aside to cool, and put one hand to her mother’s necklace. Those had been difficult times. She hadn’t realized, child that she was then, how much the adults had begun to despair as well. “But there are more of us now,” she pointed out. “And the village is growing again.” Siaja’s baby would be the third child born in less than a year. And there would be more marriages, in the years to come, and more children, especially when some of the warriors came home…

 

“You think we should revive the tradition,” Gran Gran surmised, getting to the point, as usual.

 

“I do,” Katara agreed. Gran Gran spooned rice into two bowls, and Katara accepted one from her. “Better to do it sooner, rather than later.”

 

“You know that Amaruk will demand a seat,” her grandmother cautioned, sitting down across from her. “And he will have the right.”

 

“But so will you,” Katara countered. “And Inuk, and probably Kida as well.” On the council, Amaruk would have a say, but he wouldn’t be able to make unilateral decisions. The others would keep him in check.

 

“And you,” Gran Gran pointed out. “You would have the right to represent your father, once you were married.”

 

Katara frowned. She hadn’t even thought of that. This wasn’t about her wanting to put herself in power. “I have no plans to marry as of right now,” she reminded her grandmother.

 

“But someday,” Gran Gran replied, plucking at a piece of fish with her chopsticks. She and Katara ate in silence for a moment before Gran Gran spoke again. “I think it’s a good idea,” she finally agreed. “I’ll speak to Inuk about it tomorrow.”

 

* * *

 

_ Northern Earth Kingdom - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

When the sun was low on the horizon, Katara took the reins again, and Zuko was finally able to get some sleep. It was getting colder, though whether this was just because the sun was setting or because they were getting further north was hard to say. In the largely featureless landscape, it was difficult to get a sense of how much ground they had covered. But it wasn’t yet cold enough that Zuko felt the need to get his parka out of his pack, so they must still have a long way to go.

 

It was Aang who shook him awake urgently a few hours later to tell him the spirits had come for them. The sun had fully set and it was a new moon, leaving them in near total darkness with only the stars to navigate by. But below them, seemingly glowing with their own light that illuminated nothing of their surroundings, were several large, pale shapes. They were running, some of four legs, some on more, and easily keeping pace with the flying bison. But as of yet they hadn’t done anything.

 

“What do they want?” Aang whispered as they watched another spirit appear and join the group tailing them. This one had a narrow, insect-like body and six long legs, but its face was beaked like a bird’s. Zuko realized that if they could see it clearly from the height they were flying at, it must be enormous.

 

“I don’t know,” he answered Aang honestly. He went to the front of the saddle and leaned over to talk to Katara. “Have you seen this?”

 

Katara nodded, but didn’t look back. Zuko could see her hands, gripped tightly around the reins, were shaking. “If we just keep to our course, and leave them alone,” she said in a steely voice, “hopefully they won’t bother us.”

 

“There’s three more of them now,” Aang called from the back of the saddle. “And they’re spreading out.”

 

At the same time, Zuko saw another eerily luminescent figure appear ahead of them, the largest he had seen yet. It had a face like a lion, and it opened wide its jaws and let out a piercing howl that shattered the unnatural silence of the night. Appa groaned in protest at the harsh sound, and the other spirits below them picked up the cry.

 

“Just keep going!” Katara urged the bison, shouting over the unearthly din. But Appa seemed too distressed to listen to her. He was sinking lower, towards the ground, which only made the howling and shrieking grow louder. 

 

“Aang!” Zuko called out anxiously. If anyone could calm Appa, it would be him. Indeed, the boy was already bounding forward towards the bison’s head to do just that. But the enormous lion spirit opened its mouth again, and this time instead of a sound, it let out a beam of white-gold light. Zuko saw Katara tug at the reins, but Appa was unresponsive, and the light hit them head on.

 

It was like they had hit a wall. Appa was abruptly halted mid-flight, and plummeted like a stone. Zuko barely had time to grab on to the rim of the saddle before they hit the ground hard. Appa collapsed onto his side, spilling the three of them into the dirt. The spirits had indeed spread out, like Aang had said, and now surrounded them. And they were closing in.

 

Katara drew her water out of her waterskin as she got to her feet, and Zuko likewise adopted a fighting stance. But he had a sinking feeling bending was not going to do them much good against spirits. He looked at Aang, who was still on the ground, one hand gripping his staff, half resting on his other elbow. His head was bowed. The spirits continued to howl around them.

 

Suddenly, Aang’s tattoos began to glow. He looked up, and his eyes were incandescent blue as well. He pushed himself to his feet, though it seemed to take no effort at all. He didn’t even leave footprints in the loose, dusty soil as he strode forward, pointing at the lion spirit with his staff. In the blackness of the night, this child shone brighter than any of the spiritual powers around them.

 

“Silence,” said the voice of the Avatar, and instantly he was obeyed. He angled his staff downward and made a sweeping motion. “Go,” he commanded, and one by one the monstrous spirits around them winked out of sight, until only the giant lion spirit was left. It made a low, growling noise, as if it wanted to resist the Avatar’s will. But the boy raised his staff again threateningly. “You will yield,” he ordered, and finally it, too, vanished.

 

The blue glow faded from Aang’s eyes and tattoos as well, and both Zuko and Katara rushed forward, ready to catch him as he fell. But the boy stayed on his feet this time, merely looking down at his hands in confusion in the near-total darkness.

 

“Oh no,” he said softly, looking up at Zuko with wide eyes. “What did I do?”

 

Zuko grasped the boy’s shoulder, to reassure himself as much as Aang. “I don’t know,” he said truthfully. “But it worked.”

 

“Appa!” Aang suddenly cried out in alarm, running back to the bison, who still lay pitifully on his side. “Please tell me you’re okay!”

 

Appa lowed pitifully in response. Even Zuko could tell the creature was in pain. Katara was close behind Aang, her hands already gloved in water. She ran them over as much of the bison as she could reach, checking for injuries. “I think it’s his front leg on the right side that’s hurt the worst,” she diagnosed. “The rest seems to be superficial bruising.”

 

“You can heal him, right?” Aang asked desperately. Katara nodded, already at work on the bison’s leg. She clearly didn’t want to stay on the ground any longer than they had to, and Zuko couldn’t blame her. “Is there any way I can help?” Aang offered.

 

Katara looked up from her work, studying the boy carefully. “Maybe,” she said, and Zuko knew she must be thinking of the legend about Avatar Kuruk. “Come here.”

 

Aang knelt beside Katara obediently and listened with rapt attention as she explained how healing worked - using the water to manipulate the body’s energy pathways, redirecting and speeding up the the flow of chi to accelerate the natural healing process. But when he tried, nothing happened. The water didn’t even glow.

 

“I don’t get it!” Aang exclaimed in frustration. “I can feel the water, and I can feel the chi, but I can’t make it do anything!”

 

“That’s okay,” Katara assured him, though Zuko could tell she was at least a little disappointed. “It was a long shot. Normally, it’s only something women can do.”

 

Aang was mollified somewhat by this explanation, but he still fretted anxiously over Appa as Katara returned her full attention to her work. Soon enough, she stood and declared that would have to do, as she couldn’t risk using up any more of their water. With some coaxing from Aang, Appa was able to stand. But the bison protested loudly when they tried to get him to fly.

 

“We’ll have to go on foot for a while,” Zuko concluded. Nobody was thrilled by this prospect, but they had little choice. Zuko looked up at the stars, locating the constellations he knew, and found the Eye of the Dragon which pointed due north. The star was about five fists above the horizon - they had covered a good deal of ground already, then, but they still had a ways to go before they reached the northern shores of the continent. They set off walking in that direction, their footfalls muffled in the loose, ashen soil.

 

No one said anything more, and the eerie silence reigned again.

 

* * *

 

_ South Pole - Eight Years Earlier _

 

The first meeting of the tribal council was held at the start of the summer. Amaruk had indeed claimed his seat, but so had Kida claimed hers. Gran Gran and Inuk rounded out the assembly. Katara was allowed to sit in and observe, since it had been her idea, but could not participate in any deliberation that did not directly concern her.

 

That day, they settled two complaints about tools which had been loaned without being returned and a dispute over a canoe. It was all petty difficulties, nothing that would affect the future of the community in any major way, but everyone knew this was the beginning of a return to real governance, to doing things properly the way previous generations had, when the Southern Water Tribe had been more than a tiny village struggling for its very existence.

 

Katara bitterly wished her father had been there. Still, she was pleased to see Amaruk overruled by the other three in the matter of the canoe. That was itself a promise of how things would work from now on, and judging by Amaruk’s obvious displeasure, he knew it.

 

That was why, a few weeks later, Katara felt confident enough to tell Kida what she planned to propose at the next council meeting. All of the healers were gathered in Kida’s hut - Yanor with her baby in a sling, and Lagora and Nivi, with whom Katara had already discussed her plan, and of course Kida herself.

 

“It seems clear to me,” Katara began, gesturing around the circle of women present, “that we have an overabundance of healers here at the South Pole.”  Five healers was more than enough to see to the needs of a village of some thirty-odd people.

 

“That is probably true,” Kida conceded.

 

Katara sat up a little straighter. “Then I think it’s time we share that abundance with our warriors in the Earth Kingdom.”

 

Kida raised one eyebrow. “You want to go after your brother,” she guessed.

 

Oddly, she hadn’t thought much about Sokka when she’d come up with her plan. It was her father’s absence that still weighed most heavily on her, though she knew her brother’s war party would probably be easier to find and join up with. But she hadn’t told Lagora or Nivi that, and she didn’t admit it to Kida now.

 

“I want to do my part,” she insisted instead, “to protect our tribe, by protecting those who fight for us.”

 

“Not alone, of course,” Nivi put in. “We want to go with her.”

 

“We?” Kida asked, looking around the small circle. She looked rather amused.

 

“Not me, Mother,” Yanor said, shaking her head. She adjusted the infant at her breast, and that was all the explanation anyone needed for why she would stay.

 

“I’m going,” Lagora spoke up, addressing Kida. “Katara’s right. You and Yanor can handle everything here.”

 

Kida seemed surprised by Lagora’s declaration in a way she hadn’t by Nivi’s. “I wouldn’t have thought  _ you _ would want to leave,” she said softly.

 

“I don’t  _ want  _ to,” Lagora insisted. “But I think we need to.”

 

Kida looked back to Katara, who was practically beaming with pride. “I see I’m not the only one Lagora and Nivi have been taking lessons from,” she commented dryly.

 

“Will you support us then?” Katara asked. “When we present our proposal to the council tomorrow?” She knew Gran Gran would be on her side, and Inuk would do as the spirits guided him, but it would be nice to know she could count on Kida’s support. Amaruk would certainly have something to say about it.

 

Kida considered for a moment, looking at each of her apprentices in turn. Nivi looked back at her with pleading eyes. Lagora remained impassive, but determined. Katara, for her part, tried not to seem too proud.

 

“It would be a dangerous journey,” Kida said at last. It wasn’t a yes, but it wasn’t a no, either.

 

“That’s why we’d have Katara to protect us, obviously,” Nivi pointed out.

 

Kida actually laughed. “If you put it to Amaruk that way,” she said, shaking her head, “Nivi and Lagora the good little healers and Katara the brave warrior to defend them, he might actually be convinced.”

 

“Really?” Katara asked skeptically.

 

“Oh, yes,” Yanor agreed. “Amaruk doesn’t care so much what any of us do, since he knows we’ll never do what he wants, or considers worthwhile.”

 

Nivi was nodding her agreement as well. “But you,” she said, looking at Katara. “You’re his favorite pupil. He wants you to be the daring and ambitious warrior defending the tribe.”

 

“It reflects well on him,” Lagora pointed out.

 

That somewhat soured Katara’s enthusiasm for her plan. But as much as she doubted the other women’s estimation of Amaruk, when she and Lagora and Nivi appeared before the council the next day, she took Kida’s advice. She let the other two speak of their desire to use their healing gifts to help the warriors, and spoke of herself only as their protector in the dangerous outside world.

 

Amaruk considered their proposal carefully, as did the other council members, though Katara knew at least Gran Gran had already made up her mind, and likely Kida as well.

 

“I am surprised,” Amaruk said at last, addressing Nivi, since she was the oldest of the three, “that you would suggest such a bold action.” When Nivi did not flinch under his scrutiny, his green eyes shifted to Katara, as if he suspected her as the true source of this idea after all.

 

“I once told you, Amaruk,” Katara said with all due politeness, “that you did not give the women of your tribe much credit.”

 

“Yes,” Amaruk said thoughtfully. “You did say that. I wonder if you were in fact correct.” But his tone still implied he thought rather the opposite.

 

Either way, after the council had discussed the matter, the plan was agreed on, and the three of them were given permission to go. In two weeks, they would set out for the Earth Kingdom, to look for either Sokka’s war party or their chief’s, and to help anyone else they might find who was fighting against the Fire Nation.

 

They were not a formal war party themselves, so they did not get the full send off, but there were still blessings and tearful goodbyes when the time came. Still, as their small boat sailed away from the shores of the South Pole, Katara felt more exhilarated than anything else. She was finally going to be able to do something, to  _ really _ do something that would make a difference. Finally, she wasn’t being left behind anymore.

 

* * *

 

_ Northern Earth Kingdom - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

They walked until dawn, when Aang looked ready to collapse on his feet. Katara hadn’t wanted to stop, but she was clearly exhausted as well, and Appa had had no rest in over a day. Zuko took the first watch while the others slept, but he wasn’t nearly as concerned now that the sun was coming up. Nothing had bothered them during the daytime yesterday.

 

As the sunlight slowly illuminated the strangely colorless landscape once again, Zuko realized he could see mountains in the distance now, to the northeast. Checking their maps, he realized that meant they were not far from the Weida River, which ran between the Northern Sea and the Great Lakes in the center of the Earth Kingdom. Nearly two centuries ago, the river had been an important thoroughfare for trade between the Earth Kingdom and the Northern Water Tribe. Then the north had begun their isolationist policies, and the war had further disrupted trade, before the burning had finally made navigating the river all but pointless. Now, hopefully, it would at least provide an opportunity for them to refill their waterskins.

 

Zuko let the others sleep until mid-morning, knowing they should make the most of the relatively safe daylight hours. Katara woke easily, but Aang was harder to coax out of slumber. Zuko wasn’t sure if it was their rough journey, or whatever powers the boy had invoked last night, or both, but something was clearly taking its toll on him. But when everyone was finally awake, they all agreed that adjusting their course to find the river was a good plan.

 

Zuko worked out the direction, but Katara led the way - she’d have the best sense of when they were getting close to water. Aang hung back a little, walking beside Appa with his head down and one hand buried in Appa’s fur. Boy and bison looked equally miserable. Even Momo, perched on Aang’s shoulder, was uncharacteristically somber.

 

Zuko fell into step beside Aang. “Hey,” he said. “When we find the river, Katara will be able to heal Appa completely. He’ll be fine.”

 

Aang looked up at him with tired eyes. At some point while Zuko had been asleep, he had changed out of his Freedom Fighter’s uniform back into his regular clothes, and the bright colors were incongruous with both their surroundings and the boy’s mood. “I know,” he replied simply, then went back to staring at the ground.

 

“You can’t hold it against yourself that you couldn’t help her,” Zuko tried next. He’d figured out that Aang had a tendency to internalize failure. It was almost inevitable that he would, with how much pressure had been placed on him. “What Katara said was true, it’s all but unheard of for male waterbenders to be able to heal.”

 

“Yeah,” Aang said, kicking at the sooty dirt as he walked. “But I’m the Avatar. I’ve got all these other unheard of powers that…” He took a deep breath. “That I don’t want,” he admitted.

 

Zuko hesitated, unsure if this was the right moment to ask. But he and Katara hadn’t pressed the boy after the incident at the air temple, or after their trip to Roku’s temple either, and it was clearly weighing on him. Aang couldn’t put off talking about it forever. “You mean like the way you sent those spirits away?”

 

Aang sighed. “It’s called the Avatar State,” he explained, looking up and squinting into the distance. “Roku told me about it, at the temple.”

 

He didn’t elaborate any further. “So it allows you to...control spirits?” Zuko prompted. 

 

“There’s lots of things I can do with it, apparently,” Aang replied vaguely. He was spared any further questioning when Katara called out that they were getting close to the river. They all quickened their pace in anticipation, even Appa, as if the bison knew that finding the source of water would help him feel better. Maybe he did. Appa was smarter than Zuko would have assumed from what he’d read.

 

Soon Zuko could see the river ahead of them as well. There was no wind, and the water was almost as still as glass. The sunlight did not glitter as it shone on the surface, which reflected the dull sky above, making it a milky-white ribbon cutting through the otherwise black terrain. 

 

Momo leaped off of Aang’s shoulder and flew ahead of the group. When they reached the bank, they found the lemur sitting by the water’s edge, waiting for them. Everyone hesitated.

 

“Wait,” Katara said unnecessarily. She drew a handful of water from the river and twirled it around her fingers experimentally. In the air, the water was almost perfectly clear, though still strangely dull, like the sky. Her brow furrowed.

 

“Is it contaminated?” Zuko asked.

 

“No,” Katara replied. “It’s very clean. Too clean, actually. It’s like there’s no life in the river.”

 

“Well,” Aang said, making a sweeping gesture with one arm towards the empty landscape around them, “there’s not much life of any kind around here.” 

 

“I don’t understand,” Katara said, shaking her head. “It’s been ten years since the burning. How has nothing been able to grow back in all that time?”

 

Zuko had been wondering the same thing since they had entered the burned lands. This area had been dense forest and verdant plains, before. No fire could have destroyed that so completely and so permanently, not even during the passage of Sozin’s comet. In fact, from what he remembered of the days immediately after the burning, the destruction had been less total at that time than it was now. Even the charred tree stumps and other debris were mysteriously gone. But he had no more answers now then he had had the day before.

 

“It’s the spirits,” Aang said quietly. He was gripping his staff with both hands, leaning on it slightly and looking down at the dry, dark earth. “They’re so hurt and confused by what happened…” He fell to one knee, and picked up a handful of black dirt. “Nothing will grow here until they’re appeased.” He let the dirt fall through his fingers.

 

Zuko and Katara exchanged a silent look. Aang would know better than them, about the spirits. They’d admitted as much back in Gaipan, and couldn’t deny it now. But his assessment didn’t sound very promising.

 

“Anyway,” Aang said, getting back to his feet and brushing off his hands. “I think the water’s safe to drink.” As if to show his agreement, Momo scurried forward to take a drink from the river. Appa grunted and lurched forward to follow his example.

 

Katara tasked Aang with refilling the waterskins - the remaining one from the pair she usually carried for bending, plus the one she’d found for Aang, and the larger one for drinking water. Meanwhile, she got to work on Appa, healing the rest of his injuries.

 

Zuko got out the maps again. They were on the western side of the Weida River. If they followed it downstream, that would bring them on a northwest course to the Northern Sea. He glanced at the sun, now approaching its highest point in the sky. Making some quick estimations of their latitude, he reasoned that they should be able to reach the northern shores by nightfall, if they could get Appa in the air again soon. He didn’t like the idea of still being in the burned lands after dark, Aang’s Avatar State powers notwithstanding. Hopefully the northern extremities of the region, like the southern reaches, would be less hostile.

 

When Katara was done healing Appa, she insisted they all eat something before setting out again. Aang took his meal in silence, steadily avoiding Zuko’s eye. He knew the boy was still holding back something that Roku had told him, and likely felt justified by the fact that he and Katara had been less than forthright with him about the state of the burned lands. He supposed, if pressed, Aang could always fall back on his spiritual expertise as the Avatar, and say it wasn’t something Zuko and Katara needed to worry about.

 

Zuko found himself worrying anyway.

 

He shared his concerns with Katara, when they were back in the air and Aang was at the reins. They sat at the back of the saddle, and spoke in hushed tones - but they had often done this, so he doubted Aang would suspect they were talking about him.

 

“Whatever he’s not telling us,” Katara said softly, “do you think it’s putting him in danger?”

 

Zuko sighed. “That’s just it, I don’t know. But we’ve seen him go into the Avatar State three times now, and every time he comes out of it miserable.”

 

“Well, the first time he went into it because he was already miserable,” Katara pointed out. “And the other two both involved harrowing situations.”

 

“I still don’t like it,” Zuko insisted. For firebenders, understanding how to control their bending was crucial, often a matter of life and death. How much more so for the Avatar, who was so much more powerful?

 

“Then you have to ask him about it,” Katara concluded. “I’m not the Avatar expert around here.”

 

Between the two of them, Zuko supposed, that would be him. But that was part of the problem, wasn’t it? There wasn’t anybody who could really be called an expert on these things. Not anymore. How were they supposed to help Aang fulfill his duty as the Avatar, when they knew so little about it themselves?

 

“Well,” Zuko said, “he’s certainly not doing himself any favors by refusing to talk about it.” He realized even without Katara’s pointed look how ironic that sounded coming from him.

 

As the sun began to sink lower, the sky regained some of its color. Gradually the earth below them faded from black to brown, and soon it was covered with grass and scrub once again. The river was getting wider as well as they approached its mouth, with the foothills of the mountains to their right and plains to their left.

 

“I can see the shoreline!” Aang called out at dusk, and sure enough Zuko could make out a strip of dark blue on the horizon. They were almost there.

 

“I think we should land soon,” Katara suggested, leaning over the front of the saddle to talk to Aang. “Once we’re over the sea, there won’t be anywhere for us to stop until we reach the Northern Water Tribe. We should let Appa take one last rest first.”

 

When they had reached the shoreline, Aang obediently directed the bison towards the ground, but Zuko cast a worried look at the setting sun. True, they were out of the unnaturally lifeless part of the burned lands, but not as far away as he would have liked.

 

“How long are we staying here?” he asked when they were on solid ground once more. The grass here was long and thick, gradually giving way to a sandy beach where undoubtedly frigid waves lashed the shore. Appa wasted no time in setting himself to grazing on the long grass.

 

“I’d say we let Appa rest overnight,” Aang suggested.

 

Katara and Zuko exchanged a quick glance. “Are you sure that’s safe?” Katara asked.

 

Aang looked off into the southern distance, considering his answer for a long moment. “Yes,” he said at last, softly but determinedly.

 

They took his word for it once again, and the three of them set up camp. It would be good for them, too, not to have to spend another night traveling. They were making fairly good time on their journey to the North Pole, all things considered. They didn’t want to dawdle, but there was no reason to push themselves to exhaustion, either. Privately, Zuko suspected Katara had rather mixed feelings about their impending meeting with the Northern Water Tribe, as well. He certainly did.

 

Katara ran Aang through some waterbending drills on the beach while Zuko prepared a light meal. He watched them out of the corner of his eye, impressed with how far Aang had come in such a short time. It normally took years to master an element, but after less than three months of training Aang was already a highly competent waterbender. 

 

The thought of how long it had been since they left the South Pole inevitably turned his thoughts to Arvik. They didn’t know yet whether he would ever bend an element, of course, but Zuko had always hoped he would one day see Katara teach their son how to waterbend. She deserved as much. Arvik deserved it, too. If he were a firebender, he would always be marked as an outsider, and that was the last thing Zuko wanted for his son.

 

After they had eaten, the three of them sat by the campfire for a while as the last glow of sunlight faded from the western horizon. They were sitting close together, Aang in between Zuko and Katara, since it was now quite chilly. They would need their parkas again tonight. The sound of the waves on the shore was a soothing background noise after the unnatural silence of the burned lands.

 

“So tell us, Aang,” Katara said softly, “what else do you know about the Avatar State?”

 

Aang drew his knees up and rested his chin on them. “Not much,” he deflected.

 

“But Roku did tell you something else,” Katara pressed gently. “Something more than what you told Zuko.”

 

Aang’s shoulders tensed and he scowled at the campfire. “Yeah,” he admitted, but didn’t elaborate.

 

“Whatever it is,” Zuko reassured the boy, “you can tell us.” When Aang remained silent, he went on, “No matter how bad you might think it is, it won’t be made any worse if you say it, and it won’t be made any better if you don’t.”

 

Aang closed his eyes. “According to Roku, I could use the Avatar State to do many things...things that could end the war, even.” He spoke in a flat voice at first, almost sounding detached, but grew more harried as he went on. “I’d have the power to overthrow Ozai, and the right to do it. But...it’s so dangerous. And I can’t control it! It’s...it’s terrifying!”

 

Aang leaned forward, hiding his face against his knees. Katara put an arm around his shoulders, pulling the boy closer to her. “How is it dangerous?” she asked carefully.

 

Aang took a deep breath, then lifted his head, but still didn’t look at either Katara or Zuko. “If I die in the Avatar State, the cycle ends. There would never be another Avatar again.”

 

That, Zuko had to admit, sounded pretty bad. He put one hand on Aang’s back. “So we’ll figure out how you can control it, and then you use it as little as possible,” he said firmly. He knew that was easier said than done, but it was what Aang needed to hear right now.

 

“But if I don’t,” Aang started to argue, then seemed to change his mind. “I ran away from home because I was scared of being the Avatar,” he said instead. “And look at what happened. What if something else bad happens because I’m scared to use the Avatar State?”

 

Zuko didn’t have a ready answer for that. Things had gone badly for the world, in the Avatar’s absence. The wasteland they had just crossed was the ultimate proof of that. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to blame Aang for having been scared. And he couldn’t blame him now, either. No boy so young could have that kind of weight placed on his shoulders and be expected to carry it well.

 

“You’re right that the world hasn’t fared well without you,” Katara said at last. “But that’s all the more reason why we shouldn’t risk leaving the world with no Avatar forever.”

 

“I guess that makes sense,” Aang agreed reluctantly.

 

“Listen, Aang,” Zuko said. “When I was younger, there were...things that I was afraid of, that I ran away from, too. And there were some pretty bad consequences for it as well. But what I’ve learned since then is that trying to handle things alone is pretty much never going to work out.”

 

Aang finally seemed roused from his morose state, but he gave Zuko a strange look. Thinking over what he’d just said, Zuko realized it might not have been the most encouraging way to put things. He wished, futilely, that his uncle were there.

 

“That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you say anything about your past,” Aang said quietly.

 

Zuko blinked in surprise. Was it really? But Katara was nodding in confirmation. “Well, it’s not a secret,” Zuko replied awkwardly. He didn’t exactly enjoy talking about much of it, especially the years prior to when he had met Katara. But if it helped Aang… “I’ll tell you more about it sometime.”

 

Aang actually brightened at that. “Why not now?” he asked eagerly.

 

“Because now you should probably get some sleep,” Katara pointed out.

 

“Aw, come on,” Aang whined. “Just one story?”

 

Katara looked to Zuko, leaving the choice up to him. “Alright,” he agreed. “One story. A happy one.” He did have those, as much as they sometimes seemed overshadowed by the less pleasant memories.

 

Aang stretched out on top of his sleeping bag, lying on his stomach with his chin resting in his hands. Next to him, Momo imitated his posture.

 

“When I was a child, my family used to vacation on Ember Island in the summers. There was this theater troupe there that my mother loved…”

  
  



	16. The Northern Water Tribe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko, Katara, and Aang arrive at the North Pole, and are met with mixed feelings.
> 
> In the past, Kanna makes a fateful decision that will affect the north and the south.

**Book I: Water**

 

**Chapter 15: The Northern Water Tribe**

 

_Northern Earth Kingdom - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet_

 

In spite of whatever lingering worries Zuko might have had, their night camped out on the northern shore passed quietly, with no disturbances from angry spirits or anything else. Aang had once again fallen asleep on his sleeping bag rather than in it, in spite of the cold, but as usual showed no sign of discomfort. Zuko quietly envied the boy a little when Katara woke him before dawn the next day. The daylight hours were growing longer as spring and the new year approached, but they were far north enough that the mornings were still cold and dark.

 

They set out across the sea as the first light appeared on the eastern horizon, and passed the time mostly by sharing stories. Aang wanted to hear more about Ember Island, and he regaled them in turn with what Zuko suspected were slightly exaggerated tales of the pranks he and Gyatso used to play on the other monks. Katara told Aang about the time they had met the badger moles, in the caverns outside Omashu during the second siege.

 

“So let me get this straight,” Aang said, leaning back against Appa’s neck to look up at Katara on the saddle. “The Fire Nation captured Omashu before the comet came?”

 

“Just before,” Katara confirmed. “And then the second siege was when we took it back.”

 

“But the Fire Nation took it back again,” Aang prompted. He had seen the airships around the city just as well as they had.

 

“In the third siege,” Zuko replied. “That was almost four years ago.”

 

“And General Kwon is planning another siege now,” Aang went on. “That’s what he wants the Foggy Swamp Tribe and Northern Water Tribe to help with.”

 

“That’s the plan,” Katara said. There was more to the plan than that, of course, but those were details to be discussed when they were more certain of their allies.

 

If flying across the the burned lands had been monotonous but eerie, flying across the sea was just monotonous. The occasional iceberg broke up the endless blue of water and sky, but that was it. The southern seas had far more islands, while the North Pole was isolated as much by natural geography as by their own choice. Still, Zuko had to admit that in many ways they were far better off than the last time he had made this journey.

 

Zuko woke the next morning to find Katara braiding her hair. That in itself was not unusual. What was odd was that she was braiding it differently, in a more elaborate style that looked more like something Lagora or Minak would wear. Katara had worn the same hairstyle nearly every day for as long as Zuko had known her. She was not likely to be changing it now on a mere whim.

 

“Going all out to impress the stuck-up northerners?” Zuko asked as he sat up and stretched his arms.

 

“It can’t hurt,” Katara replied. She tied off her last braid and tossed the comb in his direction. “You could make a bit of an effort, too,” she suggested.

 

Zuko ran one hand over his own hair, which was now almost shoulder length. He’d been thinking of cutting it short again, actually. “A wolftail isn’t going to fool anyone,” he said, picking up the comb and working out a few knots. But when she tossed him a piece of thin black cord from her pack as well, he tied back his hair low on his neck, just to humor her.

 

The ice below them had accumulated overnight, indicating they were getting close to the continent. Zuko examined the maps again, made his best estimate of their position, then climbed down to Appa’s head and advised Aang to bring them a little further to the east. “That should put us on a more direct course towards the city,” he explained.

 

Aang nodded and tugged on the reins. “You guys have been here before?” he guessed.

 

“I have,” Zuko admitted after the briefest hesitation. He had said his past wasn’t a secret, and that particular episode was likely to come up once they reached the Northern Water Tribe anyway. “Katara hasn’t, though.”

 

“Why’d you come here alone?” Aang asked, letting the reins go slack in his hands and resting them on his knees.

 

“I wasn’t alone. This was...before Katara and I met.” Zuko folded his arms and leaned forward, drawing his legs up to lean on them. “I was part of the invasion. Or at least, I was supposed to be.”

 

Aang stared at him, mouth agape. “I didn’t think you would have…”

 

“Sided with my nation?” Zuko supplied. “I didn’t really, in the end. My uncle convinced me...well, we wound up trying to sabotage Zhao’s plan instead.”

 

“You just...changed sides, like that?” Aang asked skeptically. “Because your uncle told you to?”

 

“I didn’t see it as changing sides at that point,” Zuko explained. “Though looking back, I’m pretty sure that was what my uncle wanted me to do. But he knew if he presented it that way, I would have refused. I wasn’t ready.” He stretched his arms out in front of him and rubbed the palm of his right hand with the opposite thumb. “It took me a long time to understand the truth,” he said regretfully.

 

Aang stared at the horizon in silence for a while. “Zuko,” he said softly, “the Phoenix King...Ozai…He’s your father.”

 

It wasn’t a question. Katara had told him Aang had asked her about that at Roku’s temple, but the boy had never confronted him about it directly. He figured Katara had probably warned him off. She knew he didn’t like talking about his father.

 

“Yes, he is,” Zuko replied.

 

“But you’re good,” Aang went on resolutely, still looking away into the distance. “And there are people in all the nations who know that - Katara’s village, and General Kwon and the Underground, and even the Fire Sages who helped us.”

 

“I guess,” Zuko said. “I’ve never thought of it that way.” It wasn’t like he’d been on some world tour to curry favor and win influence over the past few years. All he’d tried to do was what he thought was right, when he hadn’t just been trying to survive. He squinted up at the sun. “We’re drifting too far east,” he pointed out.

 

Aang leaned forward and flicked the reins gently, adjusting their course. “If we win the war, would you be Fire Lord?”

 

Zuko sighed. He wished Ukon could have kept his politics to himself. “It’s not that simple,” he said. “To most people in the Fire Nation, I’m a traitor. And even before that, my claim to the throne was...never certain.” He didn’t know how much Aang understood about the royal court and the rituals of choosing the heir, but he didn’t feel like going into that much detail.

 

But Aang didn’t seem to need further explanation. His brows were drawn together as if he were thinking hard, but not in confusion. “One of the things Roku told me I could do in the Avatar State,” the boy began, then hesitated. “At least, I think he implied...that I could take the Fire Lord’s crown away, and give it to someone else.”

 

Zuko was unsure if it was awe or terror at the idea that left him in stunned silence. As far as he knew, only the dragons themselves had held such authority. He knew the Avatar wielded incredible power, he’d seen Aang use it first hand just recently, but he was beginning to realize that he still had only the faintest idea of what the boy was capable of.

 

“I thought we had agreed,” Zuko said carefully, “that the Avatar State was dangerous, and you were going to use it as little as possible.”

 

“Right,” Aang said half-heartedly, folding his legs up against his chest and leaning on his knees in a posture similar to Zuko’s. “But if I had to…”

 

“Don’t do it just for that,” Zuko said firmly. He couldn’t see how placing the crown on his head would solve anything, let alone justify Aang taking such a risk. And he had no desire to be Fire Lord. As far as he was concerned, when the war was over, he could spend the rest of his life at the South Pole with his wife and son in perfect contentment.

 

It was a miracle enough that he could now plausibly think in terms of when the war might be over.

 

It was late that evening when they finally began to approach the continent, just at the tip of the peninsula that Zuko knew hid the city from view. The sun had long since set, and a tiny sliver of moon was now visible in the sky. He’d warned Katara and Aang to keep an eye out for the Northern Water Tribe’s defenses, but had to admit he had no idea how they’re react to a lone flying bison, which was quite different from a Fire Nation fleet. Still, he couldn’t imagine the reclusive northerners rolling out a friendly welcome for any intrusion on their territory.

 

Sure enough, as they dipped lower on their approach, ice suddenly sprang up from the sea beneath them to encase Appa’s ankles. But when Aang quickly melted it, and Katara retaliated with her own defensive ice formations, the attack halted. A single longboat, painted gray and blue, was propelled into view from where it had been hidden behind an iceberg.

 

“You’re waterbenders?” a cautious male voice called out from the bow of the boat.

 

“We’re from the Southern Water Tribe,” Katara replied. Zuko supposed that was, technically, true. All three of them had started their journey from the South Pole.

 

There was a murmur of discussion onboard the boat. Katara did not lower the defenses she had raised. “Come with us,” the same voice finally ordered. “But no bending.”

 

Katara obliged, returning the ice to the sea, and Aang guided Appa to follow the longboat as it lead them towards the city walls. They looked higher than Zuko remembered - was it just his imagination, or had the northerners increased their fortifications since the siege? He could hardly blame them.

 

But the team of waterbenders stationed atop the wall was not there to fight them off. Instead, at a signal from the captain in the boat, they opened a gate for them. They had reached their destination at last.

 

The city was like a blue and white jewel, tiered structures of glittering ice interwoven with canals of clear water. The longboat captain and two of his men transferred to a smaller vessel and led them further in. “Chief Arnook will want to see you,” was the only explanation he gave.

 

“That’s good,” Aang replied cheerfully. “We want to see Chief Arnook.”

 

The captain gave him a curious look, but Aang only smiled pleasantly, and wisely said nothing else.

 

Zuko caught Katara struggling to hide her amazement as they made their way through the city. It wouldn’t do for them to look too impressed, like easily awed provincials. But the Northern Water Tribe was so different from her own home. “It’s exactly like you said,” she whispered to him. “But seeing it in person…Even in the best case scenario, our village won’t look like this in our lifetime, or our children’s lifetime, and maybe not even our grandchildren’s.” There was an unmistakable hint of bitterness in her low voice, and Zuko knew that she placed a good deal of the blame for her tribe’s misfortune on Chief Arnook’s head. He did have to admit, what the north had done to help the south seemed paltry in comparison to the prosperity they enjoyed.

 

The building they were brought to was clearly a palace, even though Zuko knew no one in the Water Tribe would use that term. They were ushered into an audience hall and left to wait under guard, so that none of them felt comfortable discussing what they were going to say to Chief Arnook.

 

Katara studied the designs carved in relief on the walls instead, explaining their significance to Aang. Tui and La, the moon and ocean, were represented in the center of one mural, surrounded by their four children. Ikaluk, who commanded the creatures of the sea, was shown with the head of a shark, while his wolf-headed brother Amaguk was the ruler of the beasts on land. Hoshi could be identified by her crown of stars, and Hapas the healer by the bowl of water she poured out. Zuko was surprised how many of the images were familiar - he wouldn’t have expected the north and the south to have kept so many traditions in common, after such a long separation.

 

When Chief Arnook finally joined them, he was accompanied by an older man whom Zuko instantly recognized. He hadn’t actually met many people the last time he had been here - Amaruk had been one, and this man was another. Pakku, the master waterbender of the tribe and uncle of the chief.

 

Pakku showed no sign of it, but Zuko didn’t for a moment fool himself into thinking there was any way the old man didn’t recognize him as well.

 

“The last word we had from our sister tribe,” Arnook began without preamble, settling himself onto the room’s only chair, “was that our delegation had arrived safely.” Pakku stood by his chief’s right hand. Katara remained standing as well, rather than sitting on one of the cushions provided, and Zuko and Aang took their cue from her.

 

“That delegation has provided us with much that was sorely needed,” Katara replied evenly. “I trust that Amaruk has not been too great of a loss to you here in the north.”

 

Arnook looked surprised that she had been the one to speak on behalf of their little group, but Pakku was silently looking back and forth between Aang and Zuko, ignoring her completely. “And who is it that the south sends to us now?” Arnook asked.

 

“I am Katara, daughter of Chief Hakoda,” Katara answered. Arnook raised an eyebrow, but she ignored him and went on, indicating Zuko, who stood to her left. “This is my husband.” Then she indicated Aang, on her right. “And this is the Avatar.”

 

Arnook looked to his advisor, but Pakku suddenly had eyes only for Katara. The chief leaned forward to address them instead. “That is quite the surprise,” he said with a nod to Aang. “Has Chief Hakoda sent you here for training?”

 

“Actually,” Aang spoke up, now that he had been addressed directly, “Katara’s been training me. And the reason we came was-”

 

“She has?” Pakku interrupted, still studying Katara suspiciously. “Amaruk got his way, then.” Zuko clenched his fists in frustration. Barely five minutes in, and it was already politics and petty grudges. Nobody in the room liked Amaruk - why couldn’t they agree on that and move on?

 

“I trained with Amaruk and Kida,” Katara said pointedly, not letting Pakku’s attitude get the better of her. Pakku seemed to accept this explanation, at least for the time being, as he shifted his attention back to Zuko.

 

“And your husband?” the old man asked. “Do you know who his bending master was?”

 

“General Iroh, among others,” Zuko replied, even though the question hadn’t been put to him. Pakku had known his uncle somehow, had helped them flee the Spirit Oasis. Zuko could only hope that old connection, whatever it had been, would save him now.

 

Arnook looked confused by the turn the conversation had taken. “Do you know this man?” he asked his advisor. Pakku was looking Zuko directly in the eye. Zuko did not flinch under his gaze.

 

“Of course I know him,” Pakku said, not breaking eye contact. “He is Zuko, Prince of the Fire Nation, and defender of the moon spirit.”

 

Zuko really wished Pakku hadn’t used either title. Both felt like a lie. He could feel the sudden intensity of Chief Arnook’s scrutiny, but couldn’t bring himself to look at Princess Yue’s father just then. He knew Aang was staring at him as well. Katara had quietly taken his hand.

 

“Defender of the moon spirit?” Aang echoed.

 

“Didn’t he tell you?” Pakku asked, still looking at Zuko and not sounding at all surprised to learn he hadn’t. The old man knew exactly what he was doing. “When the Fire Nation invaded our city, Zuko and his uncle fought against their own people, in defense of the moon spirit.”

 

“It is an honor to receive you, Prince Zuko,” Arnook said earnestly. Zuko looked away from Pakku at last, letting go of Katara’s hand to give the chief a formal bow, hand over fist.

 

“The honor is mine,” he replied politely. “But I did not come here on my own behalf. We were sent by General Kwon of the Earth Kingdom to request your assistance.”

 

“Ah, yes,” Arnook said, sounding less pleased at this news. “General Kwon. He has sent an emissary before.” He left it unspoken that the previous emissary had been refused.

 

“But this time he’s sent me,” Aang declared. “It’s not just the Earth Kingdom or the Southern Water Tribe asking for your help. I’m asking, as the Avatar.”

 

The invocation of the Avatar’s authority clearly moved Arnook, but he still shook his head. “I will not lie to you, Avatar. My instinct is to refuse.” He held up a hand to silence Aang before he could argue. “But we will consider it, after we have had time to discuss your general’s plans in further detail. Which will wait until tomorrow. I’m sure you are all tired from your journey.”

 

They agreed, and Arnook instructed one of the guards who had stood silently throughout the audience to show them to the accommodations for visiting dignitaries, which Zuko figured must be scarcely used these days. Before they left, Pakku asked Aang and Katara to meet him at the training grounds where he instructed his waterbending students in the morning. “I’d like to see what you’ve learned,” he told Aang. Zuko knew he was likely curious how Katara had fared under Amaruk’s tutelage as well.

 

The guard brought them to their rooms, where a meal had been prepared for them. “Well,” Aang said as they ate, the three of them finally alone. “That went better than I expected. He didn’t outright say no.”

 

Zuko looked at Katara, who was absently fidgeting with her necklace. “He hasn’t said yes yet, either,” he cautioned. There was still a lot that had not been discussed.

 

* * *

 

_North Pole - Sixty Years Earlier_

 

Nakve, son of Chief Sevik of the Southern Water Tribe, was sent as head of a delegation to their sister tribe in the north the summer that he turned twenty-five, as the oldest son of every southern chief had been sent for generations, as far back as anyone could remember. The northern chiefs did not send their sons south, but their ambassadors did make regular visits, and everyone was comfortable with this arrangement.

 

That was what Kanna had always been told, anyway. But her father never explained such things to her in much detail, since she was only a girl. Both of her grandmothers were long dead, and her mother had passed when she was twelve, leaving Kanna, the oldest of the three daughters, as the woman of the household. She supposed that was why she had not been immediately married off to Pakku as soon as she came of age, even though their fathers had had an understanding since they were children. Pakku had presented her with a necklace on her sixteenth birthday, and she had accepted, but it was only now that her sister Enika was old enough to manage the household that a date for the wedding had been set. Still, that was only Kanna’s speculation, for her father didn’t see the need to explain that to her, either.

 

She sat with her fiancé at the welcoming feast for the southern chief’s son, and studied their guest of honor as she listened to Pakku make snide remarks about him under his breath.

 

“Look at that yokel,” Pakku scoffed, not noticing that Kanna already was. “He doesn’t even know what to do with himself at a feast like this.”

 

It was true that Nakve seemed uncertain about several of the dishes that were presented to him, but Kanna supposed they had their own cuisine in the south, and Pakku would be just as lost if their roles were reversed. She said nothing.

 

“My poor brother looks bored out of his mind,” Pakku whispered gleefully during the dessert course. “The southerner can’t be much good for conversation.”

 

Kanna glanced at their own chief’s older son, who was seated next to Nakve. He was listening to his southern counterpart speak with polite interest. Kanna rather thought Pakku could stand to learn a thing or two from his brother, but as always, she kept her opinion to herself.

 

She was spared her fiancé’s commentary for a while as he was called away to perform as part of the waterbending demonstration that followed the meal. She had little interest herself in the routine, which she had seen Pakku and the others rehearse several times. But Nakve watched with rapt attention. Only at the very end did he glance her way, and catch her staring at him. She blushed in embarrassment and hastily looked away.

 

“He is a waterbender at least,” Pakku said with an unsubtle nod in the direction of the guest of honor as he returned to Kanna’s side. “But not a very talented one, from what I hear.”

 

“No one is as talented as you, of course,” Kanna replied automatically. He had often told her so himself.

 

“Of course,” Pakku agreed, completely missing her sarcasm. Kanna let it slide.

 

Pakku held her hand when he walked her home later that evening, and bid her goodnight with an entirely proper kiss on the cheek. The moon was full in the clear sky, but faint white rather than bright silver, the summer sun only just setting on the opposite horizon. Their wedding was now only a month away.

 

She fell asleep easily, but woke with a start, her mouth dry. It was still dark, so she could not have slept long. But she found the water bucket by the firepit empty. It was supposed to be Enika’s job now, to fill it before she went to bed, or at least see that one of the servants had done it. How was the girl going to manage without her, Kanna wondered in frustration.

 

Putting her parka on over her nightclothes, Kanna gripped the large bucket by the handle and went outside. Even in the summer, nighttime temperatures were usually below freezing, and only the saltwater channels were left running through the city. If you needed freshwater after dark, and you were not a waterbender, you had to go to the nearest cistern. Fortunately, from her father’s house, that was not far.

 

She made it to the cistern quickly, and filled the bucket, but had to walk back at a much slower pace to keep the water from sloshing all over her. It was moments like this that she idly thought being able to waterbend would have been useful.

 

“Need some help?” a voice called from behind her. Kanna set the bucket down carefully and turned to see Nakve strolling casually towards her. She wondered what he was doing out by himself, at this hour.

 

“I’m almost there,” Kanna replied. Her father’s house was just down the street, and she didn’t want to trouble their important guest. But Nakve waved a hand and froze the water in the bucket, picking it up with one hand before she could protest.

 

“Now it won’t spill,” he said with a grin. She could see his face was flushed and his eyes were shining, like a man who had had a little too much to drink. “I’ll unfreeze it when you get home. Come on.” And looping his other arm around hers, he led her away.

 

“I hope that you are satisfied with your reception here,” Kanna said politely, trying to ignore the way her heart rate had sped up.

 

“Honestly, it’s a bit overwhelming,” Nakve admitted. “This is nothing like the south. I mostly just miss home.” He looked down at her with a grin and a conspiratorial wink. “Don’t tell your chief I said that.”

 

Kanna laughed. “Your secret is safe with me,” she assured him. “Chief Ajak hardly cares what I have to say.”

 

“Really?” Nakve asked. His surprise sounded genuine. “Aren’t you married to his son?”

 

“Betrothed,” Kanna corrected him, putting one hand to her necklace. “And why should that matter?”

 

“Where I’m from, the chief would listen to his son’s wife,” Nakve said with a casual shrug.

 

“You’re right, that is nothing like here,” Kanna remarked.

 

Nakve threw his head back and laughed. Kanna didn’t think it had been that funny, but she laughed as well. It was just a nice change of pace to have someone recognize her sense of humor for what it was.

 

“I like you,” Nakve declared, looking back down at her. He was very tall. “What’s your name?”

 

“Kanna,” she replied softly. They had reached the door of her father’s house now. She stopped walking, and Nakve set down the bucket, but he made no move to unfreeze the water.

 

“How old are you, Kanna?” he asked. Her stomach fluttered at the way he said her name. “Seventeen? Eighteen?”

 

“I’m twenty-one,” she replied, just a bit indignant. It only made him smile wider.

 

“And you’re married to a kid like Pakku?” he said in mock disbelief.

 

“Betrothed,” she reminded him. “And he’s the same age as me.”

 

“No way,” Nakve insisted, brushing a lock of loose hair behind her ear. She hadn’t bothered to put it in a braid before going out on what was supposed to be a quick errand. “You’re much more mature than him.” Then he leaned down and kissed her.

 

Kanna had never been kissed like this. Pakku would kiss her cheek, and sometimes her hand, never a second longer than propriety allowed. But Nakve pressed his lips to hers like nothing else mattered, like kissing her was all he wanted to do and nothing could stop him. She couldn’t imagine her fiancé ever having such an intense interest in her.

 

For all that, the kiss was brief. Nakve pulled away, whispered, “Goodnight, Kanna,” in her ear, and left her with her bucket of water unfrozen, and her world turned upside down.

 

* * *

 

_North Pole - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet_

 

Katara woke before dawn. Wanting to let Zuko sleep, she carefully slid out from under the arm he had thrown over her waist, and got dressed quietly. Then she went into the next room and woke Aang. Pakku was expecting them, and she didn’t intend to be late.

 

She had expected some of Pakku’s students to be there as well, but when they made it to the training grounds, they found the old waterbending master alone amidst the blocks of ice and channels of water. He must have not wanted an audience - perhaps he didn’t want any more of his students getting ideas about training women to fight.

 

Pakku only briefly acknowledged Katara before asking Aang to demonstrate the forms he had learned. Aang looked to Katara hesitantly, and she nodded in encouragement. He went through the first three forms, quickly and flawlessly, Katara noted with pride. All those times she had made him practice the basic moves over and over again had payed off.

 

“Not bad,” Pakku said with a nod. “But surely you know more advanced forms than that.”

 

“Oh yeah, of course!” Aang replied eagerly. But in his enthusiasm to demonstrate, Katara saw his footwork start to get sloppy, and his strikes less precise. Pakku had undoubtedly noticed as well, based on the look of disapproval on his face.

 

“Slow down, Aang,” Katara chastised the boy. “Do it right before you do it fast.”

 

Aang nodded, accepting the familiar correction and adjusting his pace. But Pakku made a fierce gesture with both arms, pulling the water away from Aang’s control and abruptly ending the demonstration.

 

“I want to see what he can do, without your help,” he said, glaring at Katara.

 

Katara crossed her arms and glared right back. “I’m his teacher,” she pointed out. “I’m teaching him.”

 

“Yes, you’ve obviously been doing your best at that,” Pakku replied sarcastically. Aang shrank under the indirect criticism, which only further incensed Katara.

 

“He’s already learned in mere months what takes most students years!” she argued, as much in Aang’s defense as in her own. But Pakku did not seem impressed.

 

“Amaruk should never have left this task to you,” he said bitterly. “He should have trained the Avatar himself.”

 

“Yes, he should have,” Katara agreed. The water in the channels around them was practically begging her to bend it at the old man. What she wouldn’t have given to let Amaruk, or Kohnna, or anyone else be Aang’s waterbending master, rather than leave her son alone at the other end of the world. She’d had as little choice as the tides, Inuk had told her. “But for some reason, that duty has fallen to me, and I have not shied away from it.”

 

“You believe you are as competent as one of my best students?” Pakku challenged her.

 

“I’m better,” Katara replied.

 

“Then prove it,” Pakku said, and he attacked.

 

Aang ducked hastily out of the way of the torrent of water that shot in her direction. But sending it back at Pakku with equal force was as easy as breathing, different from the warm up exercises she did with Aang only in scale. The old man dodged the blast in turn, redirecting the water up into the air and freezing it into a shower of ice daggers that rained down on her, but Katara caught them with two waves from the channels on either side of her and threw the resulting coil of ice and water back at him.

 

The fight went on longer than any spar with Amaruk had ever lasted, ice and water and mist all weaponized in their turn, and Katara had to admit that Pakku was a more powerful bender than her old teacher. But Katara was a powerful bender, too, and her teacher had been a master of subterfuge as much as bending.

 

She made her next attack a direct strike, using a firebending form to give the water more momentum. Pakku redirected it, using her own force against her. Instead of dodging or diverting, Katara stood her ground, crossing her arms in front of her in a block but letting the water wash over her and force her down. Pakku closed in for the final strike, but borrowing another move from Zuko, Katara executed a spinning kick from the ground. The snow under Pakku’s feet liquified, causing him to slip, and the swirling vortex of water she’d created slammed into him from the side before he could recover.

 

She regained her feet as he went down, and just like that she was the one holding the ice dagger to his throat. “I yield,” he said reluctantly, and she melted the dagger, letting him get up.

 

Pakku bended the remaining water from his parka as he shook his head. “Amaruk did not teach you that,” he observed dryly. Katara was surprised how well he was able to lose with dignity.

 

“That’s why I’m better,” Katara replied.

 

“That was amazing!” Aang shouted from where he had perched himself on top of the walls of the training ground, well out of the way of the fight. He leaped off of them now and floated gently to the ground, then ran to Katara. “Can you show me how to do that?”

 

“Maybe when you’ve mastered the footwork of the ninth form,” Katara said pointedly. She looked back at the old waterbending master, who was now giving her a look that clearly said he was reappraising her. “Master Pakku, if we’re done, I would like to resume teaching my student.”

 

Pakku seemed to reach a decision quickly. “By all means, Master Katara,” he said, stepping aside and gesturing for her and Aang to take the training grounds. “I shall simply observe.”

 

* * *

 

_North Pole - Sixty Years Earlier_

 

Nakve stayed at the North Pole for two weeks. During that time, he presented Chief Ajak and his family with gifts on behalf of his father, toured the city, went on a seal hunt, and sparred with the northern waterbenders. Pakku beat him easily when they were faced off against each other, just like he had assured Kanna that he would. Nakve took his defeat well enough, grasping the younger man’s forearm good-naturedly after the match, his pride apparently unscathed.

 

Perhaps he was consoled by the fact that Pakku’s fiancée was meeting him in secret every night.

 

No one seemed to suspect anything. Kanna had always been the lightest sleeper of her sisters, and no one had yet found her missing from her bed. If she acted any differently during the day, Pakku and her father of course wouldn’t notice. Enika was too caught up in the prospect of her own upcoming sixteenth birthday and betrothal to care what her older sister was up to, and Revka was only nine, too young to be aware of anything.

 

But during the day, Kanna hardly believed it herself. That first encounter had seemed like a dream the next morning, a dream that was strange and interesting, but a little frightening as well. She hadn’t even known what she was doing the second night, when she went out fully dressed after everyone else was asleep. She certainly hadn’t been looking for Nakve on the bridge over the large central canal. But she had found him there.

 

The next night she had found him in the shed with the fishing boats. Then it was by the fountain behind the library. He was always alone, and always in high spirits, as if seeing her was the whole reason he had come up north. She didn’t seek him out, and they never made any plans, but every night their paths crossed. It was like the spirits had fated them to always find each other. She couldn’t help it. It never even crossed her mind that she might try staying at home like she was supposed to.

 

Every time they met, Nakve took further liberties. And every time, Kanna allowed him to take them.

 

But during the day, she was the same quiet, dutiful, responsible girl she had always been. She did her chores, supervised her sisters and the servants, and scolded Enika when necessary, since no one else was going to do it. She showed the proper attentiveness to her fiancé, who kept the proper distance from her, and then some. She even danced at one of the banquets in honor of their guest, and pretended not to notice the way Nakve’s eyes followed her alone out of all the dancers the whole time.

 

Only when she tumbled back into bed weak-kneed and breathless did she feel the conflict between the old version of herself and the new, bold Kanna who was growing stronger each night. But she would smother her own tears, lest she wake her sisters, fight down that sick feeling, and force herself to sleep. Then she would wake in the morning and go through the whole cycle again. This went on for two weeks.

 

The night before Nakve and his delegation were to leave, she found him by the cistern again, where they had first met. They spoke few words to each other now, letting lips and hands go where they would and say all they wanted to be said. But Kanna found the tears coming over her unexpectedly, ahead of schedule. A wanton woman in the arms of her paramour, she could not hold them back.

 

Nakve held her as she cried, whispering her name over and over again into her hair, punctuated with feather-light kisses against her scalp. “I never wanted to see you cry like this,” he muttered by way of apology.

 

“Tomorrow you will leave,” she said miserably. “And in two more weeks I will marry Pakku.”

 

She felt his arms tighten around her, saw the scowl that darkened his normally cheerful face, and thought, with a thrill, that he was ready to fight for her. “No,” he said firmly. “You will not.” He ran his hands over her hair, the sides of her face, and down her arms. “Go home and gather what you need,” he told her hurriedly, her hands clasped to his chest. “I will get my men. Meet me at the docks in an hour. We can leave tonight.”

 

He gave her another burning kiss, then bid her go, and she obeyed. She ran the short distance to her father’s house, and crept quietly back into her room. Enika snored, and Revka clutched her doll, and no one was the wiser as she threw a few clothes and belongings into a bag. It was a long walk to the docks. She stole out of the house, knowing she was likely never to return, without looking back.

 

She didn’t even think about the fact that she was still wearing her betrothal necklace.

 

* * *

 

_North Pole - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet_

 

Pakku mostly kept his word, observing Aang’s training with little interruption, beyond the occasional comment. Much of what he did have to say was even helpful and appreciated. When they were done for the day, Katara sent Aang ahead to the guest house, but hung back to speak with the old waterbending master momentarily.

 

“I suppose I should thank you,” she offered, feeling far more charitable towards the old man than she had earlier that morning. “For vouching for my husband yesterday.”

 

“I more than owed his uncle the favor,” Pakku responded absently. He was looking at her necklace. Katara raised her hand to touch it self-consciously.

 

“I’m sorry,” Pakku said, shaking his head. “Your necklace…”

 

“I inherited it from my mother,” Katara said carefully. “But it belonged to my grandmother, originally.” She had thought Pakku had recognized who she was, when she had said she was Chief Hakoda’s daughter. Surely he realized that Hakoda was the son of Nakve and Kanna. But he didn’t seem angry to see the necklace now. Had the old scandal really been forgotten?

 

“I know,” Pakku replied sadly. “I carved it.”

 

It hadn’t, then. Katara hadn’t known what she had expected from the man her grandmother had left behind in the north, the man who had trained Amaruk, but it hadn’t been this almost regretful melancholy. “Gran Gran never told me much about you.”

 

Pakku sighed. “I can’t imagine I left her many good memories,” he admitted. “I hope she was happier in the south.”

 

Katara had no answer for that. Gran Gran’s life in the south had been hard, and her marriage troubled. Kanna loved her children, and her grandchildren, and her great-grandson, but she had paid dearly for therm. Katara didn’t know if her grandmother had always been _happy_ , but she had certainly never complained, at least not to her. But how could she say any of that to this man?

 

“I thought Arnook would be more wary of me,” she said instead. If it hadn’t been for the controversy that had finally split their tribes, Katara wouldn’t be here.

 

“Oh, he is,” Pakku said. “But not because of that. You forget, he was the one who sent the delegation ten years ago. It’s more recent history that troubles him.” He had not taken his eyes off her necklace the entire time he spoke, and now reached for it hesitantly. “May I?” he asked.

 

Katara undid the clasp and handed it to him. He held it almost reverently, running one finger over the waterbending emblem carved into the front of the pendant. “I worked on this for so long,” he said with a wistful smile. “I was very proud of it, you know.” Then he flipped the pendant over to examine the back.

 

“Zuko added that,” Katara explained, as he blinked curiously at the golden shape mounted to the back of the blue stone. “The crescent moon is an ancient matrimonial symbol in the Fire Nation, apparently.” She shrugged and smiled. “Neither of us knew why, but it seemed fitting.”

 

“Your firebender is strangely linked to the moon, isn’t he?” Pakku observed, the tone of his voice shifting from reminiscent to something more pensive. “Fascinating…” He handed the necklace back to her, and Katara put it back on. “That gives me an idea, actually.”

 

“An idea?” Katara questioned as she fiddled with the clasp of her necklace, finally getting it closed. “An idea for what?”

 

Pakku looked around as if to make sure there was no one listening. “Arnook is going to say no, regardless of what you or I say to him,” he confided in her. “The presence of the Avatar gave him pause yesterday, but by today he will have realized that Aang is only a child. He won’t listen to him, either.”

 

“So you think it’s hopeless, then?” Katara asked. She wasn’t ready to give up, no matter how dismal Pakku’s assessment of the situation, but she had thought for a moment they might have him on their side.

 

“Not quite,” Pakku replied. “He won’t listen to Aang, the twelve-year-old airbender. But he _will_ listen to the moon and ocean spirits, invoked by the Avatar.”

 

“Okay,” Katara said patiently. “And would you happen to know how the Avatar can invoke them?”

 

“Not how, no,” Pakku admitted. “But we do know _where_.”


	17. The Spirit Oasis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aang contacts the moon and ocean spirits, and Zuko and Katara receive some unexpected guidance as well.
> 
> In the past, Katara seeks out the best way to fulfill her purpose as a healer.

**Book I: Water**

 

**Chapter 16: The Spirit Oasis**

 

_ North Pole - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

When they had met with Chief Arnook again that afternoon, he had expressed reluctance to send his warriors so far from home on such an uncertain mission. But like Katara and Pakku had discussed, they had convinced him to put off making a final decision about whether the Northern Water Tribe should join the effort to retake Omashu from the Fire Nation until the Avatar had been allowed to consult with the moon and ocean spirits. Zuko had seen how uneasy Aang was with the suggestion, and Arnook undoubtedly had as well, but he had agreed, and they had processed solemnly through the center of the city to a small wooden door. Though Zuko had never come by this route, he knew what lay beyond.

 

“Should Prince Zuko be admitted?” Arnook asked hesitantly as Pakku reached for the door handle.

 

Pakku gave him a wry look. “He already has,” he pointed out.

 

“Oh, yes,” Arnook said, a sad, faraway look in his eyes. “Of course.” Zuko looked down at the ground as Pakku opened the door and led them into the Spirit Oasis.

 

It was just as Zuko remembered - the unnaturally warm air, the waterfalls, and the green grass on the island in the middle. The only difference was the serene atmosphere that reigned over the place, in the absence of hostile invaders. Sure enough, when they crossed one of the bridges to the island, there was the pool at the center of it, with the two koi fish circling around each other as if nothing had ever disturbed their eternal dance. Zuko suppressed a shiver.

 

“This is our tribe’s most sacred place,” Arnook explained to Aang. “They say the spirit world touches ours here. If you will find guidance from the moon and ocean spirits anywhere, it will be in this place.”

 

Aang nodded, then looked down at the fish in the pool. Zuko wondered why neither Arnook nor Pakku had explained that the fish  _ were _ the moon and ocean spirits - or at least their physical forms. Zuko didn’t entirely understand how that worked. But perhaps Arnook thought it was obvious, and went without saying.

 

Aang took a deep breath, sat down cross-legged by the edge of the pool, and pressed his fists together in a meditative pose. There was a long stretch of silence. Nothing happened.

 

“Are we supposed to do something?” Katara asked tentatively.

 

“We just have to wait,” Arnook replied. “When the Avatar makes contact with the spirits, they will make their will known however they see fit.”

 

“It might be easier to contact them with fewer distractions,” Aang said peevishly, without turning around.

 

The four adults retreated from the island. Katara stood by the edge of the lake that surrounded the island, looking down at the water. Her hands twitched as if she longed to bend it, but dared not. “The water here...it’s so full of energy,” she commented, almost to herself.

 

“Yes,” Pakku agreed. “The spiritual nature of this place gives it special healing properties.”

 

Katara looked at the old waterbending master doubtfully. “What do you know about healing?”

 

“You might be surprised,” Pakku replied. “The theoretical aspects of bending have always interested me as much as the practical applications.”

 

Zuko looked back at Aang. The boy was still sitting where they had left him, back straight, with no apparent change. “How long is this supposed to take?” he asked.

 

“I don’t know,” Arnook admitted. He looked to Pakku for a better answer, but the old man merely shrugged.

 

“Even I am not old enough to remember the last time an Avatar came to the Spirit Oasis,” Pakku said dryly. “Our histories record that Avatar Kyoshi spoke to the moon and ocean spirits here. They neglected to give a detailed description of the process.”

 

“Why didn’t you tell Aang about the fish?” Zuko asked. Surely that knowledge would have sped things along, somehow, wouldn’t it?

 

“Tui and La will make themselves known to the Avatar on their own terms,” Arnook replied, not quite condescendingly, but in a tone that made Zuko feel even more the outsider, unworthy of the sacred ground on which they stood. “They need no introduction from us.”

 

“Tui and La?” Katara echoed the chief. “You mean those fish are the moon and ocean?”

 

Zuko looked at her in confusion. She seemed awed by this. “You didn’t know?” he asked. “When I said Zhao tried to kill the moon spirit…”

 

“I didn’t think you meant physically kill him!” Katara exclaimed, though her tone was hushed and reverent, as if she was afraid the koi fish could hear her.

 

Zuko looked to Pakku and Arnook for support, but neither of them seemed surprised by Katara’s reaction. “I thought everyone knew,” he said meekly. “Everyone in the Water Tribes, at least.”

 

“Not everyone,” Arnook corrected him. “Only those who have been admitted.” Pakku was giving Zuko a pointed look, as if to silence his ignorant prattle. No wonder Pakku had been so adamant that he and Uncle needed to leave the Spirit Oasis that night. The two of them had trespassed as much as Zhao, for noble reasons rather than sacrilegious, but that did not change the fact. Zuko was amazed he had been allowed to return.

 

Out of the corner of his eye, Zuko saw Aang’s tattoos begin to glow. He took the same hurried and instinctive strides towards the boy as Katara, but came to a halt when they reached the bridge to the island, throwing out his arm to stop his wife as well. “Wait,” he said, wary of going further now more than ever. “He’s still not moving.”

 

Indeed, aside from the glow, nothing had changed about Aang’s position. He did not stand, the air did not stir, and there was still no noise aside from the rush of the waterfalls in the background. This was different from the Avatar State.

 

“He has made contact with the spirit world,” Pakku said. “Now, we wait and see what happens next.”

 

* * *

 

_ Gaoling - Eight Years Earlier _

 

It took them a month to find the rag-tag group of rebels that Sokka’s war party had joined up with. They had set up camp in the woods outside the town of Gaoling, though they had a team of earthbenders working on a more well-hidden base of operations. They had also, according to Sokka, just made contact with an influential general currently based out of the eastern provinces, who might be lending them more support soon.

 

Sokka made all this sound very promising, but morale was not high among the rank and file.

 

Most of the rebels were displaced from Omashu, though some were survivors of the burning of the northern Earth Kingdom. As Katara and the other healers treated their wounds and illnesses, they saw many old burn scars, and heard many similar stories. Entire villages obliterated, families lost or scattered, and the survivors left with nothing but the need to make the Fire Nation pay for what they had done, as futile as that quest might seem.

 

Everyone wanted revenge, but hope was in short supply. Katara understood that all too well.

 

“Well,” Sokka said to her one afternoon when she found him in his tent, poring over maps. “Is the resistance everything you dreamed it would be?” She ignored his sarcasm, knowing he was still annoyed she had left the South Pole, but unwilling to argue about it again.

 

Katara thought about the man who had come back that morning with the raiding party, his hand nearly cut clean off at the wrist. She’d been the first healer they had found in the camp, but she had quickly realized the extent of the wound was beyond her. She could stem the bleeding, but it would take someone with more skill than she possessed to knit all of the bones and tendons back together properly, without leaving the wrist damaged. She had sent his companions to find Lagora, and ceded the patient to her as soon as she had arrived.

 

“I had hoped to see Dad,” Katara said to her brother, sitting down on his bedroll.

 

“He’s got the fleet raiding islands off the coast of the colonies, last I heard,” Sokka said absently, tracing something on one of the maps with his finger.

 

“I know,” Katara said shortly. “You told me that already.” News from their father was not terribly frequent. Sokka’s Earth Kingdom general seemed to write him more often.

 

“Mmhmm,” Sokka replied, clearly not listening, as he set the map aside and picked up a letter, skimming its contents. “Hey, do you really think we need three healers here?”

 

Katara frowned. “You’re not sending me home, Sokka.”

 

“What? No, of course not,” Sokka replied, finally looking at her. He handed her the letter. “I meant, do you think one or two of you might head out to the eastern provinces? General Kwon says there are a lot more refugees there.”

 

Katara took the letter and read it over quickly. The situation did sound pretty bad - large numbers of people living in camps, poor sanitary conditions, little to no work, and the local landlords struggling to feed them. The letter was more concerned with the dangers of roving bandits - the general was explaining why he had to leave some of his troops behind - but Katara could easily imagine disease running rampant as well.

 

“Are you giving me a mission?” she asked in surprise. She’d gone on raids since she had joined Sokka’s rebels, but always at her own insistence. Sokka had never suggested she undertake anything like this before.

 

“A humanitarian one, sure,” her brother said with a shrug, already studying the map again. “If you want to be the one to go.”

 

Katara looked at the map her brother was now so intent on. It showed Omashu and the surrounding area. “I’d have to talk to Lagora and Nivi about it.”

 

“Right, of course,” Sokka said, and Katara knew she wasn’t going to get much more conversation out of him. She recognized her brother’s battle planning mode when she saw it. He’d have some brilliant scheme to share with them by tomorrow morning, but for now, he was single-minded and all but dead to the world.

 

She told the other girls about the general’s letter that evening, when the three of them were alone in the tent they shared. “You should stay here, Lagora,” Nivi immediately said. “You’re the best at healing wounds. I’m better with illnesses. I’ll go.”

 

Katara ignored the implication that she was not the best at any form of healing. She knew it was true, anyway - Lagora and Nivi had spent much more time studying under Kida than she had. 

 

“Are you going to travel alone?” Lagora asked Nivi anxiously.

 

“Of course not,” Nivi replied, nudging Katara her elbow. “I’ll have our valiant protector with us.”

 

Lagora didn’t object to being left behind - her brother Senorit was with the rebels, and Katara suspected she would rather stay in the company of the familiar little group of Water Tribe warriors she had grown up with than venture off into unknown Earth Kingdom territory. But when the three girls settled down to sleep, Katara found she was rather excited at the prospect. As far as she knew, no one from her tribe had traveled so far, certainly not in generations. To be the first one of her people to go out into the world like this, to show them that the Southern Water Tribe had more to offer than seal skins and whale oil...it was an incredible opportunity. There were people out there who needed them.

 

Sure enough, the next morning, Sokka had a battle plan. General Kwon’s army was on the march from the east, and Sokka wanted to bring the rebels north so that they could stage a two-pronged attack on Omashu. It was a daring plan, but the goal was not to retake the city itself, at least not yet. The King of Omashu was still being held captive inside the city, and General Kwon wanted to rescue him.

 

As everyone packed up camp to prepare to set out, Sokka took Katara and Nivi aside and showed them the best route to where the refugee camps were located in the eastern provinces. They would have to skirt around the Si Wong desert, following the mountains east and then north, but there was a well-trafficked trade route and they should make good time. He had sent a messenger hawk ahead to the captain that General Kwon had left behind, to let him know they were coming.

 

Katara bid her brother farewell for the second time in mere months. He made her promise to send him updates - purely for tactical purposes, he insisted, though she knew better. Then she and Nivi began their journey.

 

Katara knew it was nothing glamorous they were headed towards, but she had the unshakable feeling that she was at last on the path to finding her purpose.

 

* * *

 

_ North Pole - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

From the foot of the bridge, Zuko and Katara watched Aang’s imobile, luminescent form in cautious anticipation. But nothing else happened. Minutes dragged on. Zuko knew better than to ask Arnook or Pakku again how long this would take. Patience, it seemed, was in order.

 

“Time moves differently in the spirit world,” Pakku said without prompting. “What seems like minutes to us, the Avatar may be experiencing as instantaneous, or as much longer.”

 

“What is he seeing?” Katara wondered out loud. No one offered an answer. They all knew that was beyond them. Aang still had not moved or said anything when Katara spoke up again. “Who is that?”

 

On the other side of the pool, there was a young woman in billowing white robes. Zuko knew she had not been there a moment ago, but could not say he had seen her sudden appearance. It was as if she had been just at the periphery of his vision, and he had only now looked at her directly. He recognized her instantly, for though he had only briefly seen her before, her face was one he had never forgotten.

 

“Yue,” Arnook whispered in a choked voice. “My little girl…”

 

The apparition raised her hands and beckoned, and all four of them hesitantly approached, crossing the bridge to stand behind the seated form of the Avatar. Pakku and Arnook stood in the middle, Katara at Arnook’s side, and Zuko, the last to reach the pool, took up a place a little behind Pakku.

 

“Chief Arnook,” said the girl’s spirit from across the water where Tui and La continued their dance. “The time for the north’s isolation has ended.” She spoke with authority that would allow no argument. “The Avatar is here once more, and both worlds must unite around him or perish.” In a gentler tone, she added, “You must help them, Father.”

 

Arnook nodded solemnly. Yue turned her attention to Katara. “You are a great healer,” she said. Katara did not object to the title. Yue pointed to the pool where the two koi fish still circled one another. “Take some of the spirit water,” she commanded. “In your hands, it will work wonders, and the world is sorely in need of wonders.” Katara bowed in acknowledgement, unable to find words, and obeyed, bending a thin stream of water out of the pond. It came eagerly to her, and she held it in a perfect sphere above her hands.

 

Yue’s gaze shifted searchingly, all but ignoring Pakku, and finally settled on Zuko. “Do not try to hide, firebender,” she admonished, and Zuko reluctantly stepped forward to stand beside the others. “You have come a long way since we last met,” the apparition went on. It was far from the wrath Zuko had expected. “The moon spirit has never forgotten how you defended him against your own people. In the old days, the daughter of the moon always had a special blessing for the Fire Lord. The moon reflects the sun, you know.”

 

“I am not the Fire Lord,” Zuko protested. It was a weak whisper, but it was more than either Arnook or Katara had dared to say. “I failed to defend the moon spirit, and it cost you your life. I don’t deserve your blessing.”

 

“I am but the handmaiden of the moon spirit, and for this I was born,” Yue said, her tone reproachful. “Who are you to say it should be otherwise?” Zuko wanted to look away from the intensity of the spirit’s gaze, but found he could not. “The blessing is not mine,” she went on cryptically. “But you have had it for some time.”

 

She looked down at the boy who sat at their feet, and just like that she was gone, as imperceptibly as she had come. Zuko could not say she had been there one moment and disappeared the next. It was as if she had been an illusion at the periphery of his vision, and he had just now turned to look at it directly and seen there was nothing there. The only evidence the apparition had really happened was the orb of water Katara still held.

 

Aang let out a gasp, and leaped to his feet. “I spoke to them!” he cried out excitedly as he turned around to face them. “The moon and the ocean - they told me so many things!”

 

Arnook was still looking at the spot where his daughter’s spirit had been a moment ago. Katara was staring at the water she held suspended over her upturned hands. Zuko hardly knew what to say, and even Pakku was subdued.

 

Aang looked between the four adults in confusion. “What happened?” he asked, clearly seeing something was amiss. “Did you guys see something, too?”

 

Yue’s appearance had to have been related to Aang’s entrance into the spirit world, Zuko thought. But Aang hadn’t even realized it had happened, while he had been far away conversing with much more ancient and powerful spirits. Once again, he was left awestruck by the depth of power this child held, and how little any of them understood it, least of all the boy himself.

 

* * *

 

This is what Aang had seen.

 

At first, the oasis had looked nearly the same, only its colors were more vivid, the light was brighter, the ground beneath him more solid, the water livelier, the air fresher - it was as if everything had become more real. He got to his feet, and found he was alone, except for the two fish still circling each other in the pool before him, one dark, the other fair.

 

Then, the dance of the fish had changed its rhythm, fins and tails had become hands and feet, and Tui and La had come before him undisguised. He was bright silver shining with white hair and dark eyes like the night sky. She was cool dark waters with wavy black locks and bright eyes, like reflected moonlight on the ocean surface. They circled each other still, dancing across the surface of the pool without leaving a single ripple, as if it were smooth glass.

 

He spoke first, and the Avatar answered. Then she questioned him in her turn, and back and forth they went. They wanted to know who he was, why he had come, what he meant to do - all things, Aang thought dimly, he would have expected them to know. They were the ancient spirits who watched over the world, after all. Had they not seen?

 

When they were satisfied, and their interview concluded, the spirits paused their dance - or perhaps this was just an interlude, a new movement in the greater design. The moon spirit declared his support for the Avatar, then crossed the pool gracefully, and on the other side spoke to his servant, though Aang could not hear what was said between them.

 

The ocean spirit leaned forward, eclipsing Aang’s vision. A cold, dark hand was placed on each of his shoulders.  _ Listen carefully, young Avatar _ , she commanded. She whispered instructions into his ear, her voice like the crash of a wave on the shore, a frigid torrent that rushed over him, chilling and invigorating, great and terrible all at once. He knew her voice well, he realized. It was she who had sung him lullabies for over a century, while he lay in her protective embrace. It was her voice that had carried him to the surface when the time had finally arrived for him to come into the world once more.

 

He listened.

 

* * *

 

_ Eastern Earth Kingdom - Eight Years Earlier _

 

It was nearly summer when they reached the refugee camp. The captain, clearly a busy and overworked man, barely said two words to them before assigning a young soldier named Shi Xin to show them to the infirmary. There were over twenty patients there at the moment, and one lone army medic to treat them with limited supplies. Between the two waterbenders, thirteen of the patients were back on their feet by that afternoon, and the rest well on the way to recovery from their various ailments.

 

As she and Nivi pitched their tent near the infirmary that first evening, Katara felt reasonably satisfied that they were going to make a difference here.

 

But that summer, there was both a drought and a bad outbreak of fever. When the wells ran dry, porters had to hike several miles each way to bring water from Chameleon Bay, which then needed to be boiled and distilled. Strict water rationing was enforced, and the scarcity of their element severely limited what Katara and Nivi could do for those struck by the illness, leaving them to fall back on medicinal remedies which were even harder to come by.

 

The children were the worst affected. Several had already died in spite of Katara and Nivi’s best efforts. Just that morning, Katara had held a frail little girl as she drew her final shuddering breaths. The soldiers had snatched the girl’s body away before it was cold to bury it in an unmarked grave outside the camp. Fear of contagion overrode any thought of ceremony.

 

The people living in this camp had already lost so much, and had such an uncertain future. It seemed unbearably cruel that their children were now being taken from them as well, and that Katara, for all her training and bravado, was once again so helpless.

 

That was why Katara was not in the best of moods when Shi Xin found her that afternoon and told her his patrol had come across a badly wounded stranger in need of healing. She felt guilty enough for how little she could do for the poor children who were suffering so terribly. Now she was expected to use precious time and precious water on some vagabond? But she could hardly say no. Even if he were nothing more than a drunken lout who had gotten his head cracked in a brawl, he was still a person in need.

 

The stranger, as it turned out, was a young man, probably about Sokka’s age. Shi Xin’s men had laid him out in one of their own tents, to keep him away from the fever victims in the infirmary. A filthy, bloodied tunic lay on the ground by the pallet where he was laid out on his back. Stripped to the waist, she could see how thin he was - he obviously hadn’t been eating well. A nasty, infected gash cut across his left shoulder. Katara winced in sympathy. It did look bad.

 

“I’ll treat the infection,” she said, drawing a carefully measured handful of water from her half-empty waterskin and applying it to the wound. The young man barely stirred. He was unconscious, and his dark hair was plastered to his face and neck with sweat. She hoped he didn’t have the fever, on top of everything else. “You’ll have to bandage his shoulder and let it heal on its own,” she told Shi Xin. 

 

The soldier nodded in understanding. “He’ll have a nasty scar,” he pointed out. “But it looks like he’s used to those.” He pointed to the young man’s right arm, where a strange jagged burn mark wound its way from palm to elbow. “And then there’s the one on his face.”

 

Katara nodded, focusing on using her water to fight the infection, speeding up the body’s natural process. This was harder than closing wounds, more subtle work. She did glance at the stranger’s face, but couldn’t see anything amiss. But his head was turned away from her, and his face mostly hidden between his hair and the angle he was lying on the pallet.

 

When the handful of water was used up, the infection was mostly gone, and the wound on the young man’s shoulder looked much better, though it had started seeping blood again. Katara motioned for Shi Xin to bring the bandages and moved away to let him work. She had to get back to the children in the infirmary. But before she left, she took one last look back at the stranger. Shi Xin had lifted him slightly, and his head had rolled, the left side of his face no longer pressed against the pallet. She could see what Shi Xin had meant - from his left eye to his ear was all angry red and rippled flesh. An old wound, but clearly it had been a painful one.

 

She allowed herself one more moment of pity for the unfortunate stranger. Then she left without giving him another thought. She had work to do in the infirmary. The children were the reason she was here.

 

* * *

 

_ North Pole - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

They left the Spirit Oasis, all but Aang subdued by what they had seen. Pakku found a vial for Katara that would hold the water that Yue had commanded her to take, which hung from a cord that she tied around her neck with care. They returned to the audience hall where Arnook had received them the previous day. This time the chief called for cushions to be brought so his guests could sit, and then dismissed the guards. Pakku and Arnook sat in the circle of cushions with them.

 

“Avatar Aang,” the chief began the conversation formally. “I know you are eager to tell us what the moon and ocean spirits told you.”

 

“Actually, they mostly asked me questions,” Aang replied, his tone far brighter and more casual. Whatever his experience in the spirit world had been, it had left the boy bursting with barely contained energy. “I think it was a test, but I must have passed, because the moon spirit said he supported our plan!”

 

Arnook nodded, though Zuko suspected he understood what Aang was talking about as little as the rest of them. It was Pakku who spoke next. “That was why the moon spirit sent Princess Yue to speak to us,” he guessed.

 

“Is that who that girl was?” Aang asked. Apparently he had seen her, too. “She didn’t say anything to me.”

 

“She told me it was time for our isolation to end, that we must follow the Avatar,” Arnook explained. He was firm but sounded tired, his resolve born only of his resistance being worn down at last. “So it is my duty to inform you that the Northern Water Tribe will send warriors to participate in General Kwon’s planned siege of Omashu.”

 

“Thank you, Chief Arnook,” Aang replied, bowing from the waist. Then he added in a more excited tone, “This is great! We’ll have waterbenders from all three tribes, plus General Kwon’s earthbenders, plus me and Zuko! It’s like all the nations working together!” Zuko thought that was somewhat of an exaggeration - while Aang was unfortunately all that was left of the Air Nomads, he didn’t think that he personally counted as representing the entire Fire Nation on his own. But he didn’t say this out loud.

 

“Three tribes?” Arnook echoed Aang in confusion.

 

“There are waterbenders from the Foggy Swamp who have pledged to help us as well,” Katara explained. “They’ll be handling the southern front of the siege.”

 

“And your general wants us to attack the city from the west,” Pakku recalled from their earlier meeting that day. “But we have not settled how our warriors are supposed to get there.” Zuko was relieved to hear the conversation returning to more practical questions, and putting aside spiritual matters for now.

 

“You can sail down the Weida River, and then through the channel to the sea,” Arnook suggested. “It was the route our people always used in the past.”

 

“That would bring us through the colonies now,” Katara pointed out. “The Fire Nation controls those waters.”

 

“What if we take the whaling boats instead of warships,” Pakku suggested. “That way we can disguise ourselves as a merchant fleet.”

 

“That might protect you from the Fire Navy, but not the spirits in the burned lands,” Zuko cautioned.

 

“Actually,” Aang spoke up, “that shouldn’t be a problem this time. The ocean spirit told me she would send her daughter to protect us.” He stated this matter-of-factly, as if he were relaying a message from a mutual acquaintance, rather than an ancient spirit. “She said as long as I was with the war party, Hapas would reign, and the earth spirits would yield.”

 

Avatar stuff yet again, Zuko thought. But the ocean spirit’s words, repeated by Aang, were an odd echo of the poem he had half-remembered on their journey north. The last line might have been something about balance, he thought. Perhaps it was no coincidence it had come back to him then.

 

There were other practical matters to settle - which warriors would be sent, how many of the whaling ships they would need - but soon their departure was fixed for the next day. Arnook would have offered them greater hospitality, but they had to reach Omashu before the next full moon, in keeping with the General’s plan. He still insisted they be given a proper feast that night, to send them off.

 

When the evening’s festivities were over, they retired to their guest rooms. As they undressed to get ready for bed, Katara removed the vial of water from around her neck and paused, looking at it for a long time. Then she looked back up at Zuko, and brushed the fingertips of her free hand across the scar on his face.

 

“Do you think it could…” she began tentatively.

 

“No, Katara,” he said softly, bringing his own hand up to cover hers and leaning into her touch. “That’s not a good enough reason. Save it for something more important.”

 

She set the vial aside on the low table next to the bed, then pressed her other hand to the opposite side of his face. “You are important to me,” she insisted, as if she feared he didn’t know.

 

He couldn’t help but smile at her. “I did have some idea of that,” he teased.

 

“I’m scared, Zuko,” she admitted, her hands sliding down from his face to his shoulders. Her right index finger flicked absently at the collar of his undershirt. “I could dismiss the things that Ukon said at Roku’s temple, but hearing them repeated almost word for word here...and by Yue, no less…” She shook her head. “If the spirits want you to be the Fire Lord, I’m scared that means they’re going to take you away from us.”

 

“I don’t want to be Fire Lord,” Zuko reminded her. He was getting tired of having to deny his claim to the throne again and again, when he had thought he’d lost it once and for all years ago.

 

Katara held his gaze steadily. “What if you don’t have a choice?”

 

Zuko frowned as he wrapped his arms around her waist. He’d been torn away from the people he loved and the place he called home before. He wished he could say with certainty it would never happen again. But if when all was said and done, the crown really did land on his head, and he had to go back to the Fire Nation… “Wouldn’t you come with me?” he asked, knowing the answer but suddenly needing to hear her say it.

 

“Would they let you bring along a Water Tribe peasant, and a waterbending son?” she replied, her voice trembling, though he heard anger as much as fear. Zuko held her tighter.

 

“You are my wife, Katara,” he declared. “ _ If _ I were the Fire Lord, you would be Fire Lady, and there would be nothing anyone could do about it.” There might be people who would want to try, but he would die before he would let them have their way.

 

Katara laced her fingers together behind his neck. “And Arvik?”

 

“Would be a prince of the Fire Nation, firebender or not,” he replied. He knew what she had seen in the swamp, but that didn’t prove anything. They still had no way of knowing what element, if any, their son would bend. Zuko had hoped it would be water, but if it came to that...

 

Katara sighed, let him go, and sat down on the edge of the bed, working her hair out of the elaborate braids she had done again that morning. “Is it selfish of me to hope that never happens?”

 

“Maybe,” Zuko said. He’d never given much thought to who would wear the crown, if his father and his sister were overthrown. It had always seemed such a remote possibility, until recently. “But I hope so, too,” he admitted. There were distant cousins, descended from his grandfather’s brothers. Surely one of them had to be suitable.

 

Katara paused, her hair still wound around her fingers. She looked up at him apologetically. “If it did happen, of course I would go with you.”

 

Zuko sat down next to her. “I know,” he said, and pressed a kiss to her temple. “I wasn’t doubting you.” She tilted her face towards him, and he leaned in to kiss her properly, running his fingers through her hair to smooth out the last remnants of her braids and catching her hands in his in the process. 

 

The next morning, or what passed for morning at the North Pole even this late in the winter, the hastily assembled war party gathered at the docks. Three whaling ships were each set to carry thirty men, half of them waterbenders. The nonbenders’ weapons were rolled up inside furs and hidden beneath barrels of oil, to complete the illusion of a merchant fleet. Pakku would be commanding the flagship, while Zuko and Katara would be flying with Aang. Appa would lead the fleet from the air, and whatever protection the spirits were going to give them through Aang would cover the ships that followed.

 

The skies were clear as they crossed the northern seas, but when they reached the shore of the continent, clouds began to gather. Katara asked if they shouldn’t land, but Aang insisted they press on through the storm. “I told you Hapas would rain,” he reminded them. “We’ll be safe.”

 

“I didn’t think this was what you meant,” Zuko commented as the steady downpour began.

 

It didn’t stop. Their entire trip down the Weida River, the rains never let up. But they never encountered any threatening spirits, either. They were wet and miserable, but they were indeed safe. The skies were a darker gray than they had been on the trip north, the sun hidden behind the clouds, and the soil black mud instead of dry ashes. But even as they approached the source of the river, where the channel branched off into the colonies, the burned lands looked no less desolate for it.

 

“It won’t look like that much longer,” Aang said, as if he had read Zuko’s thoughts. The two of them were sitting at the front of the saddle, while Katara was at the reins. “Now that Hapas has poured out her healing water.”

 

“Rain couldn’t be all that was needed,” Zuko insisted. Surely it had rained in the last ten years. Something else had to have been preventing the regrowth. “If the earth was really barren…”

 

“Seeds can lay dormant in deep soil for a long time,” Aang said, in a solemn voice that reminded Zuko strangely of his uncle. He wondered if the boy was quoting a proverb he had learned from the elder monks.

 

“The elements are supposed to work together, to make things grow, but the balance had been disturbed,” Katara mused. “It couldn’t be set right without the Avatar.”

 

Realization began to dawn as Zuko recalled again the words of the old poem. “When you subdued the earth spirits...you didn’t just stop them from attacking us. You made them  _ yield _ .”

 

“And the earth will put forth green plants yielding seed, and trees of every kind bearing fruit with the seed within it,” Aang replied in that same solemn voice. He was definitely quoting some ancient wisdom now, though it occurred to Zuko that he could have learned it from the spirits themselves as easily as from the Air Nomads. Then Aang looked at Zuko with wide, innocent eyes, very much still a child. “I told you I could do lots of things in the Avatar State.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up, there will be no update next week - but I will be posting a drabble for Zutara Week each day, and one of them will be set in this universe.
> 
> The final chapter of Book I will be posted the following Friday, August 10th.
> 
> Thank you all for reading this far. I'm very excited to share the conclusion of this first part of the story with you - and then, of course, what comes next.


	18. The Siege of Omashu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the rebels launch an attack to liberate the city of Omashu from Fire Nation control, what will Aang's role in the battle be? In the past, what will Zuko do when he wakes up in a refugee camp guarded by Earth Kingdom soldiers, and what will the waterbender treating his injuries have to say about it?

**Book I: Water**

 

**Chapter 17: The Siege of Omashu**

 

_ Omashu - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

When they reached the source of the Weida River,  Pakku took the northern fleet west through the channel, while Aang kept Appa flying south. Though sailing through the colonies, even disguised as merchant ships, presented its own dangers, they wouldn’t need the spiritual protection that the Avatar had afforded them in the burned lands. Taking a more direct route, Katara and Zuko would be able to regroup with General Kwon sooner, and let him know the reinforcements his plan depended on were indeed on their way.

 

They made better time than they had on their trip north - Aang offered some explanation about air currents again, but Katara didn’t quite follow it. But they reached the rendezvous point where the General had his troops camped north of the Foggy Swamp a full five days before the full moon. Huu and his swampbenders were there as well, and to Katara’s pleasant surprise, so was Sokka.

 

She ran through the camp to hug her brother when she saw him, Zuko trailing behind her while Aang hung back with Appa. “It’s good to see you,” she said earnestly.

 

“Do you know how long I’ve been planning this siege with the General?” Sokka replied as she let him go. “Did you really think I would miss this?”

 

“I am surprised you made it back in time, yeah,” Katara admitted. Zuko had caught up with her, and clasped Sokka’s forearm while her brother clapped him on the shoulder.

 

“I didn’t stay long,” Sokka said, reaching into the fold of his tunic for something. “But I did bring you this.” He handed Katara a small scroll of paper, which she unrolled. It was a sketch of Arvik, his black hair tied up in a miniature wolftail, happily playing with the toy dragon he had received for his birthday.

 

Her eyes filled with tears. Zuko placed a hand on her back, just at the base of her neck. “Thank you,” he said on behalf of both of them. 

 

Katara glanced up from the drawing to see Sokka giving them both a scrutinizing look. “You saw her, didn’t you?” he asked in a low voice. “Princess Yue.” Katara no longer bothered to wonder how he knew. Her brother had never been to the North Pole, as far as she knew, but a girl who had ascended to a place of honor with the spirits surely wouldn’t let that stop her, if she had something to say to him.

 

“We did,” Katara confirmed.

 

Sokka smiled. “Aang is making progress, then,” he said. But it was a melancholy observation.

 

Katara returned her attention to the drawing of Arvik, and had memorized every detail of it by the time they met with General Kwon and the rest of the leadership. But she was still reluctant to take her eyes off it. Sokka’s artistic skill had vastly improved from the clumsy drawings he had done when they were teenagers, and he had captured a good likeness of her son’s cheerful smile.

 

General Kwon let Sokka lead the briefing, which was also attended by Huu, Goren, and Suki. Their father, Katara was relieved to hear, had rejoined his fleet, and had them raiding Rumei and the surrounding coastal towns - since Rumei was the major port through which Omashu received shipments of grain and other supplies, the Fire Nation’s military governor of the city had dispatched a battalion of his troops to fortify the town, leaving fewer men to defend Omashu itself. But there were still the three airships that would have to be taken out - a captured Fire Nation catapult was expected to help with that, and Huu assured them he could take care of the “great flying nuisance” as well.

 

“Additionally,” Sokka went on, “our informant in the city tells us that ex-Admiral Zhao arrived there three days ago.” He looked at Zuko and Katara. “Apparently, having put down an uprising in the colonies has won Zhao some small degree of favor, and he is now the guest of the governor. We know Zhao’s troops aren’t much to worry about, but we have to expect his archers are there as well.”

 

Katara frowned in concern, and saw Aang’s shoulders droop. She would have to ask Sokka later, in private, if his informant knew anything about the fate of Smellerbee and her Freedom Fighters. But that didn’t bode well for them.

 

“The archers will undoubtedly be stationed on the city walls,” General Kwon said, indicating the city’s defenses on the map spread before him. “They’re our second priority, after the airships. If we can eliminate those two lines of defense, then between our earthbenders,” here he nodded at Goren, “and the waterbenders at the height of their power with the upcoming full moon, breaching the walls themselves should pose little difficulty.”

 

“Those are no small conditions,” Zuko pointed out.

 

“True,” Sokka conceded. “But we have surprise on our side as well. The Fire Nation probably knows our troops are on the move, but they’ll be expecting a standard assault of mostly Earth Kingdom forces. The waterbenders are our lotus tile.”

 

“Someone will have to meet Master Pakku and his men, to bring them up to date,” Katara said. They knew the basic plan, but should be filled in on the details Sokka’s informant had learned.

 

“I was hoping you would do that, actually,” Sokka replied. “Since the northerners know you already.”

 

Katara nodded. It was a sensible suggestion.

 

“What about me?” Aang asked. “Should I go, too?”

 

Goren gave the General a pointed look. General Kwon ignored him. “We think it would be better for you to stay far away from the fighting, Avatar Aang,” he said diplomatically. Aang looked disappointed by this answer, but didn’t bother to push the issue. Probably he realized it would only have lead to a repeat of the same argument they’d had when they’d arrived in Gaoling, almost two months ago.

 

But he did bring it up again with Katara, after the meeting. She had told him they were going to get in one last waterbending lesson before she left, on the outskirts of the camp, and he had followed her instructions dutifully for a while. But he threw down the water in frustration the first time she had to correct him.

 

“What’s the hurry?” he snapped. “It’s not like I’m going to need to master the elements any time soon, since I’m not allowed near any important battles.”

 

“We’ve been over this before,” Katara reminded him gently, not letting him bait her into another argument.

 

“I know, I know, I’m not ready!” Aang complained, throwing his hands in the air. “But now I can’t even go with you to deliver a message? I’m just supposed to sit in the camp with the General’s pageboys and do nothing?”

 

Katara resisted pointing out that the boys who helped manage the General’s correspondence and other affairs were older than Aang. “You’ve already done a lot,” she said instead. “The Foggy Swamp and the Northern Water Tribe wouldn’t be here to help us if it weren’t for you. This siege wouldn’t even be possible.”

 

Aang crossed his arms. “And you don’t think you’ll need the Avatar to see it through?”

 

Katara considered his question very carefully. It could be the petulance of a child unhappy about being left out of what he saw as grown-up. Or it could be something more. Aang might not have told them everything the moon and ocean spirits had said to him. “Is there some reason why you think we will?”

 

“I don’t know,” Aang admitted, looking away from her. “It’s nothing specific...just a feeling that my job isn’t done.”

 

“It’s not,” Katara agreed, relieved he hadn’t dropped another casual revelation from the spirits on her. There were only so many of those she could handle. “We’ll have a long way still to go, to win this war, and I’m sure you’ll have plenty more to do as the Avatar. But that doesn’t mean you have to be part of this battle.” She could tell Aang wasn’t satisfied with that answer. “It would also me a lot to me and Zuko,” she added, “knowing that you’re safe.”

 

That seemed to wear him down. “Alright,” he said. “I don’t want you worrying about me. You need to…” Aang swallowed, and when he spoke again it was in a much smaller voice. “You need to be safe, too, you know.”

 

“Oh, Aang,” Katara said sympathetically, drawing the boy into a hug. He was hardly the only person counting on her to make it through this battle unscathed. “Believe me, I know.”

 

They finished the lesson, and Katara checked in with Sokka one last time before she left. He had heard nothing about the Freedom Fighters, unfortunately. With all the information she needed to pass on to the warriors from the north sorted out, she went to find her husband.

 

Zuko was inspecting the catapult, explaining to a group of Kwon’s soldiers how to assemble and fire it. “It’s a powerful model with a good range,” he told Katara when she drew him away. “But I wish we had more than one.”

 

They walked hand in hand away from the camp, and the noises of the army faded behind them. “You should go back soon,” Katara said softly.

 

“A little further,” Zuko replied, putting off their separation. When they came to the top of a hill that afforded them a view of Omashu in the distance to the north, they stopped. “I wish you weren’t going alone,” Zuko said, brushing the back of one hand over her cheek.

 

“Don’t you start, too,” she teased. “I’ve already heard it from Aang. And they need you with the catapult.”

 

She got a small smile out of him. “Be careful, Katara,” he reminded her anyway. “I love you.” And alone on the hilltop, with the city of so many memories behind them, he kissed her goodbye.

 

* * *

 

_ Eastern Earth Kingdom - Eight Years Earlier _

 

When Zuko woke up, he was pretty sure he wasn’t dead. His head was pounding, and his shoulder seared with pain. Being dead wouldn’t hurt this much, right? The next things that he noticed were that his mouth was very dry, and that he was lying on a rough pallet rather than the ground. The air was hot and still, but the light dim. He opened his eyes fully and found himself staring up at the green canvas inside of a military tent. 

 

“Oh good, you’re not dead,” said a deep voice, confirming Zuko’s suspicions. He turned his head and saw a uniformed Earth Kingdom soldier standing over him. He should have been afraid, but Zuko only hoped that if he was going to be interrogated, the soldier would give him something to drink first. “I’ll go find one of the healers, they’ll want to know you’re awake,” the man said, and he ducked out of the tent, leaving Zuko alone.

 

He closed his eyes again, reaching out for the sun. It was still on the ascent - mid-morning, though Zuko could not say on what day. Had the fight with the bandits only been last night? He didn’t think so. He had vague memories of stumbling wounded through the wilderness in the daytime. He must have wandered in a daze before passing out. He had no idea where or when the army had found him. Out of the fire and back into the frying pan.

 

Opening his eyes again and gritting his teeth, he tried to push himself up into a sitting position, to face whatever was going to come with at least some semblance of dignity. But his shoulder screamed in protest and he fell back, letting out an involuntary yelp of pain just as the tent flap opened again.

 

“What do you think you’re doing?” a female voice scolded.

 

Zuko glared at the newcomer, too weak to offer any other form of protest. She was a dark-skinned girl dressed in blue, obviously from the Water Tribes. The soldier from earlier entered the tent behind her. She must have been one of the healers he had gone looking for, then.

 

“Lie still,” the girl ordered, kneeling next to the pallet where Zuko lay. She bended a handful of water from the waterskin at her hip, which Zuko eyed longingly, but the girl only formed a glove around her hand with it and poked at the bandages on his shoulder. The water began to glow.

 

“The infection still isn’t totally cleared up,” the girl said, as much to the soldier as to Zuko himself. “But the wound is healing.” She delicately lifted the bandages - Zuko hissed in pain, but she ignored him - and pressed her palm flat against the wound. The glowing water seeped into his skin, and remarkably the pain faded, just a little bit. The girl replaced the bandages methodically. “That’s the best I can do for now,” she said, a hint of something apologetic in her voice this time as she finally met Zuko’s gaze directly. Her eyes were bright blue.

 

He tried to speak, to ask her where he was, but all that came out was a dry cough. She helped him sit up this time, slowly, then bended another handful of water, even smaller than the last, and held it to his lips for him to drink. “Take it easy,” she warned. “We’re in the middle of a drought, so I can’t give you more than this.”

 

Zuko nodded to show he understood. Even having drunk the water, he still didn’t trust his voice. Fortunately, the soldier seemed to guess what he wanted to know.

 

“My patrol found you yesterday afternoon,” he explained. “You were passed out by the side of the road. We figured you’d been mugged and left for dead.”

 

Zuko nodded again. That was more or less what had happened. He looked at the soldier carefully. He wasn’t anyone Zuko recognized from his time with General Kwon, and he gave no indication that he recognized Zuko either. Was it possible no one had realized yet who he was?

 

The soldier certainly didn’t seem to have any intention of interrogating him. He had turned his attention back to the healer. “You’ll have to look after him now, Katara,” he was saying. “I can help you bring him to the infirmary if you want, but after that I’ve got to report for duty.”

 

“He can’t go to the infirmary,” Katara snapped. “He’ll catch the fever.”

 

“Then take care of him here,” the soldier said exasperatedly, waving one hand at the otherwise unoccupied interior of the tent. “Either way, I can’t babysit him anymore today.”

 

Zuko bristled at the idea of needing a babysitter, but when he shifted his body the pain in his shoulder flared again. Katara looked back at him reproachfully as he bit back a groan. “I told you, sit still,” she said. She looked back towards the soldier, but he was already ducking out of the tent. Rolling her eyes, Katara got to her feet. “I’m going to get you something to eat,” she told him. “Try not to move so much, you’ll only aggravate the wound.”

 

Once again Zuko was left alone for several minutes. His head felt a bit clearer now, though it still ached. But he was fairly certain now that his identity remained a secret, for the time being. They certainly weren’t treating him like a threat. He lit a small flame in the palm of his right hand, took two deep breaths and watched it rise and fall, but then hastily snuffed it out. Best not to push his luck. He had little enough.

 

Katara returned with a bowl of some kind of thick gruel and a piece of very dry bread. It wasn’t very appetizing food, but the first bite made him realize just how hungry he really was. Katara tried to help him eat at first, but he stubbornly pushed her hands away. He wasn’t so much of an invalid that he couldn’t even feed himself. She sat back with a frustrated sigh, but left him alone.

 

“I don’t suppose you want to tell me who did this to you,” Katara said when he was nearly done eating.

 

Zuko shrugged with his good shoulder. “Bandits,” he said, echoing the soldier’s explanation. His voice was still hoarse, but the food had helped. “Three of them.” He chewed on the last bit of bread thoughtfully, then swallowed. “Where are we, exactly?”

 

“This is a refugee camp for people displaced by the burning,” Katara explained. Her eyes flicked over the left side of his face, then his right arm. “You were there, weren’t you?” she guessed.

 

Zuko’s fists clenched around the empty bowl. He set it down, looking away from the girl. “Yeah, I was there,” he said shortly. He hoped she’d take the hint, that he didn’t want to talk about it.

 

“What’s your name?” she asked. It was the gentlest she had yet spoken to him, but the question only made him angrier. The truth was obviously not a good answer, and he was tired of lying, tired of pretending to be somebody else. He kept his eyes fixed stubbornly on the drab cloth side of the tent, and irrationally said nothing.

 

“Fine,” Katara said in response to his rude silence. “Don’t waste my time with conversation. There are other people in the infirmary who need me more than you.” Collecting the empty bowl, she left the tent again, throwing the flap open with more force than was probably necessary. There was a burst of sunlight into the dim interior when she did so, and then it fell closed behind her, leaving Zuko in relative darkness once more.

 

He lay back down gingerly on the pallet, trying not to jostle his injured shoulder. He knew he should be grateful that the soldiers had found him, and that Katara had done what she could. Using up water to heal him during a drought was more than he deserved. But he just felt frustrated, resentful, and tired. Was this going to be the rest of his life, running from one danger to the next? He’d been exposed when he tried to hide, caught when he tried to flee, knocked down when he tried to fight. When did it end? When would he be left alone?

 

He knew he couldn’t remain nameless for long. If Katara wrote him off as merely taciturn, the soldiers would undoubtedly see it as suspicious, if they had any sense. Maybe it would be better to just leave now. No one was watching him. That would probably be the safest thing to do.

 

But for all his resolve to get up and steal away then and there, his body had other ideas. Exhausted, he fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

_ Omashu - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

As it turned out, Aang wasn’t even allowed to stay in the camp with the pageboys. The day that the siege was to begin, he was sent away with a stern warning from Zuko, told to take Appa and Momo into the hills and wait there. At first he was annoyed by this, until he realized he could just as easily keep Appa in the air, and then at least be able to observe the battle from a distance.

 

The assault on the city was three-pronged. The warriors from the Northern Water Tribe, whose ranks Katara had joined, were attacking from the west. Goren was leading the attack from the east, which comprised of the Underground’s forces and Suki’s warriors. Aang had been surprised that General Kwon wasn’t personally commanding that segment of the siege, but of course Goren would want to take a leading role in the liberation of his own city. They had the catapult, so Zuko was with them as well. The central column, attacking from the south, was made up of waterbenders from the Foggy Swamp, led by Huu. Sokka was with them as well.

 

From his vantage point in the air, Aang could see all three columns advancing on the city as night fell. The western column was the smallest, but the highly skilled waterbenders working together under the full moon had formed siege engines out of ice. The waterbenders from the Foggy Swamp had opted to use their plantbending skills instead, creating great behemoths out of vegetation. And as soon as they were in range, the eastern column launched the first volley from the catapult.

 

But the Fire Nation had hardly left the city defenseless, and blasts of fire from the airships and the city walls slowed the rebels’ advances. Aang assumed the archers must be firing on them as well, but he was too far away to see them. Yet as the fight began in earnest, dark clouds rolled overhead, and unleashed a steady downpour on the battlefield. With the moon now hidden, the only light came from the fire that was thrown from the city, and occasionally returned by the eastern column of the siege.

 

As Aang had suspected, Hapas had never left him.

 

_ Let me help, young Avatar,  _ she whispered to him, her voice cold silver. Aang watched the airships fire on the eastern column. The catapult ceased to return fire. It must have been destroyed - or they no longer had anyone to light it.  _ Justice for my father, _ Hapas pleaded.

 

The waterbenders of the swamp in the central column had taken out one airship with their plant monster and were pressing on the attack, but the western column was not making such progress. The third airship flew too high, out of range of their icy projectiles.  _ You can save them, if you let me help. _

 

The heavy rain pouring down over the battlefield was already the only thing hindering the fire of the remaining airships. What else could she do?

 

_ Let me show you _ .

 

Aang closed his eyes, and hid his face in his hands. At the air temple, when he had found Gyatso’s remains, he had felt so scared, so alone. His people had died, everyone he had loved was gone, and he hadn’t been there to do anything about it. Zuko and Katara had promised to take care of him, but if this battle didn’t go their way, they might not be able to keep that promise. He could end up alone again, if he didn’t do something.

 

“I’m not ready,” Aang protested through his tears. “I can’t.”

 

_ Then let me. _

 

The power of the spirits terrified him, but losing the people he loved terrified him more. His hands, still cupped together, fell from his face, and some mixture of raindrops and teardrops dripped from his fingertips. He felt his body stand as the spirit eagerly took control, then leap off of his bison, but he did not need to airbend to slow his fall. Hapas was the rainstorm itself, and she moved through the downpour with ease, exhilarated to finally be set free.

 

She lacked her mother’s power and her father’s authority, but Hapas had command over human bodies, and that was skill enough for what she needed to do. The powers of healing held many possibilities. A tug on their chi paths, and the firebenders on the airships found themselves immobilized. Pressure on their blood, and the pilots were asleep at their stations. The great ships began to drift, and then to crash. The armies pressed on the city, its defenses now shaken.

 

But Hapas was not satisfied. She demanded justice.

 

Bounding over the city walls was nothing. Fire Nation archers were brought to their knees with a thought, and soldiers who stood in her way collapsed into unconsciousness like puppets with their strings cut. She reached the terrace where the commanding officers coordinated the defense of the city, and at last laid the boy’s eyes on her target.

 

The governor and his retinue fell. They would wake later, she did not care. But for Zhao the Accursed she had other plans. Her father’s would-be killer looked at her with fear, but also deadly ambition. The fool did not realize, even now, what was happening. He called on his fire, and she reached for his heart. He gasped as she squeezed, falling to his knees.

 

“Justice,” she spoke through the child’s mouth, so her victim could hear. “For my father, the moon spirit.” But to her, the boy’s own voice answered with a plea of  _ Mercy _ .

 

And from above, another voice rang out, bright and clear.  _ You were never meant to kill, Hapas. _

 

She tilted the boy’s head back to look up. She had covered the night sky with her storm clouds, but she should have known he could still see her. Her beloved was never really gone, even when out of sight. He was never far from her.  _ This one has disturbed the balance,  _ she reminded him.  _ It must be set right. _

 

Her beloved answered not with words, but with lightning. The cold fire he wielded only for her pierced the clouds of her storm, and struck the Accursed where he knelt before her. She felt his heart seize, his insides burn, and his spirit leave his body to face its fate at last. She smiled in triumph, lifted the Avatar’s hands in a gesture of gratitude, and left him.

 

Aang looked at the bodies the spirit had left behind her, and shivered in the cold rain. He had not done this, he knew, but he had watched. He had let it happen. His one weak entreaty had done nothing to stop it. The Avatar State was meant to be how he ruled the spirits, balanced their interests and grievances with those of the mortal world. But entering it out of fear, he had allowed the spirits to rule him instead.

 

The charred black hole in the center of Zhao’s chest was the consequence. The disgraced admiral’s eyes were still open, wide and glassy. Aang hurriedly turned away from the grizzly sight.

 

The combined forces of the Underground and their allies were over the city walls now, having wasted no time to press their advantage in the wake of Hapas’s destruction. The battle was drawing to a close. Aang ran from the terrace, his only thought to find Zuko and Katara, and make sure they were alright. It would all have been for nothing if they weren’t.

 

* * *

 

_ Eastern Earth Kingdom - Eight Years Earlier _

 

When Zuko woke up again, the soldier was back, along with two other men from his unit who apparently shared the tent with him. The sun was down, and a single lantern had been lit. The soldiers were playing pai sho on a small game board that looked like they had made it themselves. There was a bowl of the same thick gruel Katara had brought him earlier set by his pallet.

 

The soldier who had been there earlier left his buddies playing their game and came to Zuko’s side, helping him sit up. “Katara says you need to eat,” he instructed, holding out the bowl to him. Zuko accepted it, silently. “My name’s Shi Xin,” the soldier offered pointedly, then indicated the other two. “That’s Bo and Shuren.” Bo gave a mock salute, eyes fixed to the game board, and Shuren waved casually.

 

Zuko wondered if Katara had told them about his refusal to give his own name earlier. They weren’t acting suspicious of him. But Shi Xin was definitely trying to draw him into conversation. “You guys found me, huh?” he said, deflecting the implied question.

 

“Yeah,” Shi Xin said. “You looked more than half dead. Katara saved your life.”

 

Zuko frowned at the second mention of the Water Tribe girl. He didn’t like being in her debt. It made him feel guilty about his plans to run away. He could imagine the lecture his uncle would have given him about showing gratitude. But talking about her was a safer topic than talking about himself. “She said something about children in the infirmary,” Zuko remembered aloud.

 

“Bad case of fever going around,” Shuren said as he moved one of his pai sho tiles. “Hits the kids the worst.”

 

“And the waterbending healers are only as good as how much water they’ve got,” Bo added, scratching his chin as he studied the new configuration on the board. “Which right now, ain’t much.”

 

“That’s rough,” Zuko said lamely, feeling the guilt twist his stomach even further. He set aside his food, half-eaten. His appetite was suddenly gone.

 

A whistle sounded from somewhere outside. Bo and Shuren grumbled, but started packing up their game, while Shi Xin reached for the lantern. “That’s lights out,” the soldier explained. “And we’ve got morning patrol tomorrow.” He snuffed out the lantern, and the three other men settled in to sleep.

 

Zuko lay back down as well, but he had slept all day and was still awake long after the others had started to snore. No wonder the healer had had so little patience with him. There were sick children she was struggling to help. Taking care of him was the last thing she needed on top of that.

 

When he was certain that the soldiers were sound asleep, Zuko cautiously pushed himself back up. He moved slowly, to aggravate his wounded shoulder as little as possible. His own shirt had been discarded, probably ruined, but he felt around where he remembered seeing the soldiers’ packs and found one of their spare tunics. He pulled it on carefully - thankfully, it opened in the front, so he didn’t have to lift his arms over his head - and then slipped out of the tent.

 

The moon was up, a waxing gibbous that gave light enough for him to see the rows of tents around him - some dark, presumably green military issue like the one he had come from, but most pale shades that were probably tan in the daylight. Here and there were more permanent wooden structures. Zuko guessed one of those would be the infirmary.

 

Though the camp had a curfew, it did not seem strictly enforced, for there was no one patrolling the pathways between the tents and buildings as Zuko crept through the night. He made his way towards the edge of the camp at first, but soon realized there was a wooden fence surrounding the perimeter. It wasn’t too high for him to climb, under normal circumstances, but he put his right hand absently to his wounded shoulder and gave up that idea. He’d have to look for a gate, though he knew that at least was likely to be guarded.

 

His new course brought him by one of the buildings, which lacked a proper door. A netted curtain was all that kept the insects out, and through it Zuko could see the rows of cots filled with small, shivering bodies. This was the infirmary. He stopped in his tracks, and looked around. There was still no one. He thought about the past winter, when he had been sick, alone and miserable. He put his hand to his shoulder again.

 

Stepping forward decisively, he pushed the curtain aside and entered the building. He froze when he saw that the cot nearest to the door was occupied by none other than Katara herself, but she was also asleep. Silently, he approached one of the children, and laid his hand on her forehead.

 

The little girl was burning up. Zuko reached for the heat rolling off of her the same way he reached for his own inner fire. He wasn’t even sure this had worked when he’d done it to himself, and he’d never tried it on another person before, but he pictured a flame slowly growing dimmer, and willed the child’s fever to do the same. After a moment, he heard the little girl give a sigh of relief, and he realized the damp skin under his hand was now much cooler.

 

He went to the next cot and repeated the process on the little boy there, with the same results. Emboldened by his success, he went on, laying a hand on each child’s forehead and bringing each fever down. It might not cure their illness, but it would certainly help. He could leave the camp without feeling like he’d done nothing.

 

When his work was done, he hurried to leave the infirmary. But he didn’t get far. A coil of water that came seemingly out of nowhere caught him around the middle, threw him against the wall, and froze him there. Katara was awake, and she was furious. “What are you doing,” she demanded, her voice colder than the ice that had him pinned.

 

* * *

 

_ Omashu - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

Katara had just finished helping Pakku’s warriors secure the last of the prisoners that had been taken in the final stage of the siege when Aang found her. The boy had all but flown at her as she stepped out of the warehouse that was being used as a temporary prison, seizing her in a fierce hug that had nearly knocked her over. 

 

“I’m okay,” she reassured him. She hugged him back, and realized he was trembling. The rain had stopped, but it was still overcast and cold, though she didn’t think that was the reason. The way the airships had mysteriously crashed just when the battle seemed to be going against them, the unconscious soldiers they had found when they breached the walls of the city - she knew Aang had to have done something, and she could guess that the Avatar State had been involved, in spite of their warnings and Aang’s own fears. But this wasn’t the time to talk about that.

 

“Where’s Zuko?” Aang asked urgently, pulling away from her.

 

“He’s with Goren and the General,” she said, pointing towards the center of the city. “They went to the palace.” The military governor who had occupied it for the last few years was sure to have papers of significant strategic value there. Sokka would probably join them once he’d located their informant.

 

Aang looked hesitantly in the direction she had indicated. “You saw him?” he asked. “He’s okay, too?”

 

“He’s fine,” Katara said. The eastern column had had the heaviest losses on their side, but Zuko had come through the battle for Omashu unscathed, this time. She thanked Tui and La again for that, and she had a feeling, based on the strange turn the battle had taken when the airships had suddenly crashed, that the spirits had in fact intervened directly.

 

“Good,” Aang said, actually taking a step back rather than heading towards the palace to see Zuko for himself the way Katara would have expected him to.

 

“You did something, didn’t you?” Katara said softly. She should have known the spirits would not leave the Avatar out of it, child or not.

 

Aang gave her a startled look. “It wasn’t me!” he protested. “I didn’t want to! But Hapas…”

 

Katara thought of the flaming wreckage of the airships, and the scores of unconscious soldiers they had found when they had breached the city walls. “The spirit of healing did this?” she asked in disbelief.

 

Aang nodded glumly. “Sokka told me that even the spirits will go to war if they have cause. I guess that includes her.” He scuffed the toe of one boot against the edge of a paving stone in the street. “She got justice for her father, anyway,” he said darkly. “Zhao is dead.”

 

Katara felt as if her own blood had been frozen. To deal out death in judgement was a right few possessed, and a burden that should never have been placed on a child, Avatar or not. She knew the spirits were not always gentle, but she had thought the healing spirit at least was above such wrath, that under her protection Aang would have been safe. But the cost of this victory had turned out to be far higher than the body count.

 

She hugged Aang again, but he did not cry.

 

In the weeks that followed, General Kwon directed their efforts into driving out the last vestiges of Fire Nation control from the surrounding area. The people of Omashu rallied to the cause of their liberators, and to Katara’s surprise, even a few of Ozai’s soldiers defected when they found out Zuko was with the rebels. It seemed Fire Sage Ukon hadn’t been entirely out of touch after all.

 

Sokka’s mysterious informant turned out to be another defector, as well as someone they knew. Mai was the daughter of the first Fire Nation governor of New Ozai, who had remained in the city all these years. Azula had sentenced her father to death after the last time the rebels had taken the city - Katara suspected as much for Mai’s personal betrayal of the Fire Lord as for his own failure. It seemed Hapas was not the only one who had gotten retribution.

 

Katara continued training Aang, though she did let Pakku give him some lessons as well. It was a relief to no longer be the only one who could instruct the Avatar, though her longing to return to her home and her son warred with a growing fear for what would happen to Aang in her absence. She and Zuko would have to have a serious conversation about it at some point, but she was starting to feel they had come too far on this journey not to see it through to completion.

 

Aang, at least, did not seem troubled by the events of the siege for long. He was happy to be in Omashu again, a city where he had happy memories, and he quickly befriended many of the local children, who were awed more by his mail chute exploits and stories of their great King Bumi than they were by his status as the Avatar. Katara was glad Aang was getting to spend more time around kids his own age.

 

Best of all, as preparations were underway for the formal ceremony to instate Goren as King of Omashu, her father was able to bring his men to the city for the occasion, and Katara was reunited with both him and her brother for the first time in years. There was a tense moment when Hakoda met Pakku, and Katara suspected the waterbending master must be thinking what so many had often remarked on, that her father looked much like the grandfather she had never met. But the strange softer side to the old man that Katara had briefly seen won out in the end, and he greeted Hakoda with all the respect due to the chief of his sister tribe.

 

With spring approaching, the people of the Earth Kingdom were in a festive mood to begin with, and Omashu’s liberation only heightened the urge to revelry. Spontaneous dances would spring up in the streets, shopkeepers suddenly discovered casks of their best wines which had mysteriously gone missing during the Fire Nation occupation, and Zuko was given cause to bring his flute out again on more than one occasion. Katara was glad for that. She had missed hearing him play.

 

On the day of Goren’s installation, Katara and Zuko were seated with his daugher Liu and the Water Tribe chiefs in attendance. Aang was with them as well, but Katara knew it was more than their informal status as the Avatar’s guardians that had afforded them this place of honor. Zuko might still be wearing blue, and have his hair done up in a topknot only at her insistence, but there was an unsettlingly real possibility that he might be extending invitations to a coronation of his own someday, if certain people got their way. Goren obviously wanted to be in his good graces if that ever happened.

 

Omashu’s kings wore no official crown, but Goren was vested in robes of state by the city’s chief priests, only just restored to their offices themselves. Zuko watched the solemn proceedings with a polite stoicism, but his fingers drummed anxiously against his knee. Katara took hold of his hand to still them. He didn’t look at her, but squeezed her hand gratefully.

 

* * *

 

_ Fire Nation Capital - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

Fire Lord Azula was shown into the throne room that should have been hers, and knelt before the Phoenix King. He was almost entirely hidden from her, enveloped in the shadows of the throne behind his wall of fire. She tolerated the indignity of these formalities because she knew her father would not have bothered with them unless he were planning to give her an important task. She was, as ever, his eager and faithful servant.

 

“New Ozai has fallen into the hands of the rebels again,” he told her without preamble. She frowned at the news, but waited patiently for further explanation. It was certainly not her fault, this time. Not that it ever had been. “I am told that the Avatar played a crucial role in the battle.”

 

Ah, yes. The Avatar. They had heard of the incident on Crescent Island at the winter solstice. An unfortunate irony for both of them, that the Avatar should suddenly reappear, though potentially far more inconvenient for her than it was for her father.

 

No matter. Surely her father would send her to take back the city again, and the traitors and cowards would be brought to heel, as they always were. There was no way out of the Fire Lord’s displeasure, no escape from her wrath. But she did not say this. It was not her place to speak before the Phoenix King’s throne.

 

“I am charging you with a mission crucial to the future of our Fire Empire,” her father went on. “You will find the Avatar, and see that he is either captured or killed.”

 

Azula clenched her fists so tightly that they shook. He had to know what he was doing, what giving her  _ that _ task implied. Why was he mocking her like this? His anger the last time had been easier to understand, when she had been the one to blame, in part. A very small part. But she had done nothing this time. She had not failed him in any way. Why was he casting her with  _ them _ ?

 

But all she had the right to say were words of acceptance and declarations of her unending fealty to the Phoenix King. In return, she was given permission to stand, but before she was dismissed, her father added, almost as an afterthought: “I hear that Zhao was killed in the fighting.”

 

Was that meant as a provocation? Or was it a test? The wall of flames went down, her father descended from the throne to stand in front of her, and Azula kept her expression carefully neutral. “I’m sure it was better than he deserved,” she replied.

 

Beneath the great helm of the Phoenix King, her father frowned. “He was a man of some use to me, once,” he remarked.  _ Before you got your hands on him _ , she heard the unspoken accusation. She didn’t need her father to remind her what tended to happen to people around her.

 

“When I have destroyed the Avatar,” Azula declared, “none of them will matter anymore.” 

  
  
  


**End of Book I: Water**

 

 

 

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, we've made it this far! Thank you for reading and especially to those of you who have left comments. 
> 
> Since we're now at the end of "season one" of this story, I will be taking a hiatus from updating. This will help me get more of a lead on writing "season two", and hopefully allow me to maintain a regular update schedule with my job starting again soon. **The first chapter of Book II: Earth will be posted on Friday, October 12th.**
> 
> Some things to look forward to: More of Sokka, a lot more of Azula, and of course, Toph. Meanwhile, the Zuko and Katara of the past will be getting to know each other.


	19. The Avatar State

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Omashu is liberated from Fire Nation control, but the war is far from over, and Aang still has a lot to learn about being the Avatar. In the past, Katara learns one of Zuko's many secrets.

**Book II: Earth**

 

**Chapter 1: The Avatar State**

 

_ Omashu - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

The first day of spring, as the start of the new year, was an important holiday in all the nations, but none celebrated it with greater enthusiasm than the Earth Kingdom. In Omashu, the partying had begun weeks in advance, mingled with the celebrations of the city’s liberation from Fire Nation control and the restoration of their rightful king. But on the actual equinox, the city had become a riot of colors - though always dominated by green and gold - with musicians, dancers, parades, and confetti everywhere. Aang had thrown himself into the festivities, sampling the traditional sweets, laughing and cheering with the crowds, and even dancing with a few different girls.

 

But it had all left him feeling a bit empty the next day, when King Goren had sent for him. With the celebrations now over, he knew he was going to have to think about his Avatar duties once more. He had enjoyed the respite, while it lasted.

 

The king of Omashu met with him not in the formal audience hall, but in a colonnaded walkway that ran along the northern side of the palace, affording a sweeping view of the city and the mountains beyond. On the other side of those mountains was still Fire Nation controlled territory. That way lay the mining town where they had started a riot to rescue Katara, and further on, Gaipan, where the divided Freedom Fighters had made their last stand, and beyond that the burned lands. Omashu was free, but the war was far from over.

 

The King was waiting for him at the western end of the colonnade. He wore less formal robes than the last time Aang had seen him, at his investiture, but he still looked far more the part of the king in his palace than he had in the underground caverns outside Gaoling. He greeted Aang with a nod. “Thank you for sparing the time to speak with me, young Avatar,” he said graciously. “I’m sure you are very busy.”

 

“You must be much busier than I am,” Aang replied. He wasn’t the one with a city to run, after all. 

 

“Perhaps,” the king allowed. “Walk with me.”

 

They strolled along the colonnade at a leisurely pace. “My daughter tells me you have become quite the accomplished waterbender already,” Goren said as they walked. Princess Liu had observed a few of his lessons with Katara and with Pakku in the past week. “Isn’t it time you began learning to earthbend?”

 

“I guess,” Aang said modestly. He knew he had made rapid progress, but his instructors would undoubtedly insist he still had much to learn. “You’d have to ask Katara.”

 

“With all respect, I don’t know if your waterbending master is qualified to judge your readiness for the other elements,” Goren replied. He stopped in the niche between two columns, and folded his hands behind his back, looking very regal. Aang couldn’t see much family resemblance between him and Bumi. “But I do think she would agree. You are both ready to move on.”

 

Aang didn’t have to ask what Katara would be moving on to. She had never said anything to him, but he knew she had wanted to go home months ago. She and Zuko had agreed to leave their son behind on the understanding that it was a short-term arrangement. They weren’t  _ his _ parents, and he had no right to keep them.

 

“Did you have someone in mind to teach me earthbending?” Aang asked, preferring to think about that.

 

Goren looked down at him. “Why, I would do it myself, of course.”

 

“Oh. Okay,” Aang said. He didn’t know the king all that well, but he supposed it was an honor to be instructed by him. “Did you know I was friends with your great-uncle Bumi?”

 

Goren finally smiled, but it was the patient sort of expression people usually give a child who has said something silly. “He did mention you once or twice. I’m sure he would have been delighted to know you played such a decisive role in liberating his city.” The king resumed his walk, and Aang hurried to keep up with his long strides. “But tell me, how did you call on the lightning that killed Zhao?” Goren asked casually. “I was under the impression Zuko had not yet taught you any firebending.”

 

“I didn’t! That is, he hasn’t taught me that,” Aang struggled to explain. No one had pressed him for details about Zhao’s death, and he had foolishly hoped that no one would. “The lightning, it...it wasn’t something I did. In the Avatar State, the spirits can act through me, but I don’t have any control over it.”

 

“I see,” Goren said, running one hand over his full gray beard. “And what triggers this Avatar State, if not your will?”

 

Aang looked away from the king. “It mostly seems to happen...when I’m afraid,” he admitted.

 

Goren was silent for a moment, considering. “Then perhaps what you need to do is embrace that fear.”

 

That didn’t sound right to Aang, but he was spared having to answer when Zuko entered the colonnade from the opposite end. He seemed surprised to find Goren there, and Aang thought there was also a hint of suspicion in the look he gave the king. But he greeted him politely before addressing Aang.

 

“Katara’s looking for you,” he told him. “It’s time for your lessons.”

 

Aang looked back at Goren, who dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “Go on, young Avatar. I won’t keep you from your training. But do think about what we discussed.”

 

“I will,” Aang promised, and followed Zuko back into the palace.

 

“What did Goren want to discuss with you?” Zuko asked as they headed towards the large courtyard that had been repurposed as the training ground for the waterbenders.

 

“Earthbending, and Avatar stuff,” Aang replied, not wanting to go over it again. Zuko knew how much the Avatar State terrified him. He knew all of Aang’s fears, more or less. Or maybe all but one. “Are you and Katara going to leave?” he blurted out.

 

Zuko came to an abrupt halt. He placed both hands on Aang’s shoulders. “We’re not going to leave until we know we’re not needed anymore,” he said firmly.

 

That could be any day then, Aang thought, though he kept it to himself. He certainly wanted them to stay, but Katara didn’t have to be the one to complete his waterbending training. Pakku or Chief Huu or any of the other waterbenders they had recruited could do that just as well. She and Zuko should never have made that promise at the air temple. They were inevitably going to have to break it. But he didn’t say that to Zuko, either.

 

They reached the courtyard, where Katara was sparring with two of the women from the Foggy Swamp. Princess Liu was seated on a bench at the far side of the courtyard, well out of the way, watching the waterbenders with mild interest. Aang was beginning to suspect her father had tasked her with observing his lessons. 

 

Katara called a halt to the match when she saw Zuko and Aang. The swampbenders left, which Aang didn’t mind so much, though he was disappointed when Zuko said he couldn’t stay either. Apparently General Kwon had received a message from the Fire Nation’s minister of war about the ransom for their governor in Omashu, and he wanted to go over it with Zuko.

 

If Aang’s waterbending was unusually sloppy that day, he wasn’t doing it on purpose. He had a lot on his mind. But he did doubt that Katara was about to declare his training complete then and there. Still, he worried, and Katara noticed.

 

“What’s wrong?” she asked him when their lesson was done.

 

Aang gathered up the water from the floor of the courtyard with a sweep of his hands and deposited it back in the rain barrels along the walls. “Do you think I’m ready to start earthbending?” he asked.

 

Katara didn’t seem surprised by the question. Probably she had also been thinking about when she would be able to leave. “I don’t know how that was decided with the previous Avatars,” she cautioned, “but you have reached the point in your waterbending where you’d be considered a qualified warrior.” She gave him a pointed look. “Most people are older than you before they get there, of course.”

 

In spite of himself, Aang bristled at the reminder of his age. He was closer to his thirteenth birthday than to his twelfth now. Or his hundred and twenty-third, technically. “Goren thinks I’m ready,” he challenged, silently daring Katara to argue. “He wants to teach me.”

 

“Of course he does,” Katara said, not giving in to Aang’s attempt at provocation. “It’ll be one more thing he has over Gaozu.”

 

Caught off guard by this line of reason, Aang had to wrack his memory for the name. He thought he must have heard Sokka mention him at some point, or maybe it was General Kwon. “Is that the guy who’s supposed to be the Earth King?” he finally asked.

 

“Exactly,” Katara said. She cast a glance at the other end of the courtyard, where Princess Liu still sat, though now she was reading a book, apparently having lost interest in his lesson a while ago. She didn’t seem to be listening to them, but Katara put one hand on Aang’s shoulder and steered him into one of the corridors off the courtyard before she continued. “Goren wants the title of Earth King for himself,” she explained in a hushed tone. “Being the Avatar’s earthbending master would increase his prestige, and might sway some of Gaozu’s partisans over to him.”

 

“Oh,” Aang said. The war with the Fire Nation and the status of the colonies was complicated enough. He hadn’t taken Earth Kingdom succession into consideration at all. “So it would be a political move, if I accepted him as my teacher? I’d be picking sides?”

 

Katara nodded. “It would be taken that way, absolutely.”

 

Aang thought for a moment. Having two rivals for the throne seemed like such an unnecessary layer of added conflict, exactly the sort of thing the Avatar would be expected to resolve. “Should I pick a side?” he asked hesitantly.

 

“I wouldn’t, at least not right now,” Katara replied. “I don’t know all the ins and outs of the rivalry between them, but I know it’s a delicate situation. Sokka can tell you all about it, if you’re really interested. But the last thing we want is to follow up our victory here with infighting.”

 

It seemed to Aang there was at least equal danger of infighting the rivalry wasn’t put to rest, but he could see her point. He shouldn’t meddle in things he didn’t understand. But he made a mental note to ask Sokka about it, the next time he saw him.

 

* * *

 

_ Eastern Earth Kingdom - Eight Years Earlier _

 

“What are you doing,” Katara demanded. One arm was still extended in front of her threateningly from the end of the bending form she had used to freeze Zuko to the wall of the infirmary. She had trapped both his hands and feet in ice, immobilizing him as much as she could while using minimal water.

 

“Nothing,” Zuko insisted, an impulsive denial. Katara obviously wasn’t convinced by this blatantly false answer, but some of the children had started to wake as well, and they caught her attention. Zuko debated melting the ice while she was distracted, but decided that would only make things worse.

 

“Katara?” the little girl whose fever Zuko had lowered first said, blinking her eyes sleepily. “What’s going on?” Katara went to her side, felt her forehead, and looked into her eyes.

 

“You’re doing much better, Mimi,” Katara told the girl, clearly surprised. She went to check on the other children, throwing Zuko a suspicious glance as she found each one inexplicably healthier. At last she melted the ice to free him herself, holding the water ready to use again if she had to, and ordered Zuko out of the building, following close behind him.

 

“What did you do?” she demanded again as soon as they were outside. “And don’t say nothing. Some of those children were so sick they could barely open their eyes just a few hours ago. Nobody recovers that quickly on their own.”

 

“I know a trick for fevers,” Zuko replied, scowling in anger as much at himself as at Katara’s attitude. “That’s all.” Of course he would get in trouble trying to do something to help. Served him right for caring. He wondered if it was worth trying to make a run for it - Katara only had so much water, and if he could dodge whatever initial attack she threw at him, he could probably get away from her. But there would be guards at the exit from the camp.

 

“Are you a waterbender?” Katara asked, a faint undercurrent of hope tempering the suspicion in her voice.

 

“No,” Zuko said, deciding running wasn’t a good option. “Definitely not.”

 

“Some other type of bender then?” she pressed, still holding the water ready to strike. “Because water’s the only element I know of that can heal. I don’t see how earthbending could be any use for a fever…” Her eyes widened and her shoulders tensed as she realized the only remaining possibility. “You’re a firebender,” she accused.

 

Zuko braced himself, but something very strange happened. Or rather, didn’t happen. Katara still stood in a fighting stance, her element at the ready. But she didn’t attack him.

 

“Is that how you healed them?” she all but whispered. “With fire?”

 

Zuko hesitated. He could deny it, but the girl’s suspicions had been raised, and she didn’t seem likely leave him alone until she learned the truth. And in spite of her defensive posture, she looked more intrigued by the idea than afraid. He really was tired of lying. He took a deep breath.

 

“Don’t tell anyone,” he pleaded softly.

 

Her eyes narrowed, but still she did not attack. “Who are you?”

 

He had taken a risk to trust her, but it only went so far. “I’m no one,” he said.

 

“Are you a spy? An agent of the Fire Lord?” she asked, not letting down her guard. “Or do you work for Ozai?”

 

“No,” he said darkly. “I’m anything but that.” And whether she took the irrepressible bitterness in his voice for conviction, or the angry tremor of his clenched fists for hatred of the Phoenix King, Katara seemed to believe him. The water, shimmering in the moonlight, returned to her waterskin.

 

“Thank you,” she said tersely. “For helping them.”

 

Zuko shook his head. He hadn’t done it for her thanks. “I owed you,” he said. “Now we’re even.” Cautiously, he turned to go, still intending to leave the camp. Now that his debts were settled and her curiosity abated, hopefully she would let him return to his solitude. The valley where he’d spent the last year was probably out of the question now, but there had to be some other isolated place he could find for himself.

 

“Where are you going?” Katara called after him, sounding annoyed. “Shi Xin’s tent is the other way.” Zuko ignored her, and kept walking. She jogged after him. “You can’t just leave,” she said, catching on to his intention. “You’re still wounded, and unless your fire-healing can do something about it, that wound could get infected again and kill you.”

 

Zuko paused. He hadn’t thought of that. But he couldn’t just stay here, and keep using up the camp’s resources, living off of the charity of Earth Kingdom soldiers and a waterbender who knew too much already.

 

“Look,” Katara said, blocking his path and setting her hands on her hips. “You healed  _ all _ of the children. You saved their lives. That’s worth a lot more than a couple shoddy healing sessions on your shoulder, if you’re worried about some idea of payment.”

 

Zuko looked down at the girl. It struck him that she was probably about the same age as Azula, maybe a little younger. “I just want to get out of here,” he admitted.

 

Katara scoffed. “Well, when you’re properly healed, be my guest,” she said irritably. She grabbed his wrist and attempted to drag him back towards the tent where he’d woken up, but he yanked his arm out of her grasp. He immediately regretted it when his shoulder flared in pain at the sudden movement. He inhaled sharply through gritted teeth and pressed his opposite hand to the wound.

 

Katara gave him a patronizing look, and he bit back his anger. It wasn’t her fault he was in this situation. “Fine,” he said. “I’ll stay a little longer.”

 

She nodded in satisfaction, and insisted on escorting him back to the soldiers’ tent. “We’ll see if we can find you a tent of your own in the morning,” she said pointedly. “I still don’t want you in the infirmary.”

 

Zuko got the distinct impression that Katara had just appointed herself both nursemaid and handler to the rogue firebender in their midst, to make sure he didn’t cause any trouble. Well, she’d have an easy job, since he didn’t actually need a babysitter. He planned on interacting as little as possible with anyone else in the camp, and leaving as soon as he could.

 

* * *

 

_ Omashu - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

Aang didn’t have to wait long for his chance to talk to Sokka. In fact, he might have prefered to wait a little longer. But Sokka woke him up before dawn the next day and declared they were going on a hike outside the city to greet the sun and do some meditation exercises.

 

He followed the warrior mystic through the streets and into the hills sleepily, wishing they could have started with breakfast first. But early morning meditation had been a part of the daily routine of life at the air temple, and Aang did kind of miss it. The monks had never been expected to keep quite as strict a regimen when they were roaming as they did when they were at the temples, but he had almost let it fall completely by the wayside with the erratic hours he had slept while traveling with Zuko and Katara. He knew Zuko meditated daily, but it had often been while he was sleeping, so Aang had only seldom joined him.

 

They headed north of the city, where the mountain range began to curve to the east, and found a mostly flat hilltop with a clear view of the eastern horizon, where the early dawn was turning from gray to orange. Aang knew the desert lay that way, though they couldn’t see that far. Sokka sat down and folded his legs in a lotus position, and Aang copied him. Sokka began softly reciting a mantra, and recognition hit Aang like an unexpected cool breeze on a hot day. It was the Air Nomad prayer at dawn. Eagerly, he joined in.

 

“Where did you learn that?” he asked excitedly when the sun was fully above the horizon. 

 

“There’s a library, out there in the desert,” Sokka replied, gesturing towards the far distance beyond them. “A lot of ancient knowledge can be found there.”

 

Aang was relieved to hear that. He hadn’t thought to check the library at the Southern Air Temple to see what state it was in, but he suspected the Fire Nation raid would not have left it intact. At least the traditions of the Air Nomads were preserved somewhere.

 

Sokka reached for the satchel he had brought with him, and Aang was even more relieved to see that it contained food - fresh moon peaches, lychee nuts, dark bread, and a soft cheese. “Sokka, you’re the best,” he said appreciatively as they ate. Zuko and Katara’s idea of breakfast always included meat, if they could get it, and while they never forgot to take his vegetarian diet into account, it was easy to get tired of plain congee every morning.

 

Sokka gave him a pleased smile. “So what’s on your mind today, young Avatar?” he asked casually, as if he’d known Aang wanted to talk to him. Maybe he had.

 

The incongruously formal way Sokka addressed him reminded Aang of Goren, and he decided to start with the political situation Katara had told him about the previous day. “What’s the deal with Goren and the Earth King?” he asked as he carefully peeled a lychee nut.

 

“Gaozu hasn’t been formally invested,” Sokka corrected him as he spread cheese on a slice of bread. “Bit hard to do it, since the temple where that’s supposed to happen was destroyed with Ba Sing Se.” Seeing Aang’s face fall at the mention of Ba Sing Se’s destruction, Sokka hastened to add, “There are other temples of Shennu of course, but choosing a new location to hold the ceremony becomes a political question.” He smiled ruefully. “And I think you’re starting to get an idea how quickly those get settled.”

 

Aang chewed on the peeled lychee and spat out the pit. “Is Goren the one delaying it, since he wants to be king instead?”

 

“Nothing so direct,” Sokka replied. “But he’s got a hand in it, I’m sure.” He leaned towards Aang, lowering his voice a bit even though there was no one else on the hilltop to hear them. “He can’t outright claim the throne without running the risk that Gaozu will recall General Kwon to the eastern provinces. He’s got to get the nobles to demand the title be given to him instead.”

 

“But Gaozu’s the heir, isn’t he?” Aang asked. The whole point of having a hereditary monarchy was supposed to be that it avoided this kind of controversy over who would take power. “They can’t just take that away.”

 

“If enough of them are convinced that Goren would be a better king, they might try,” Sokka said. Aang knew if that happened, it would not be a simple matter, either. “Though I doubt they would dare to proclaim him anything other than acting regent,” Sokka added, almost as an afterthought.

 

“Regent?” Aang echoed. “Who’s he supposed to be a regent for?”

 

“Well,” Sokka said, clapping his hands together, and Aang suspected he was going to regret having asked. “The Earth King must be just that - a king, not a queen. But the succession, by ancient tradition, can only pass through the maternal line.” He leaned over and started sketching a family tree in the dirt beside them. “So if you have a king, and he has a sister, and that sister has a son, then that would be the king’s heir - the nephew. Sometimes it was a cousin, through a king’s mother’s sister, or sometimes the king  _ married _ a maternal cousin, and his son was able to inherit. But you see, it was always the maternal line that mattered.”

 

Aang studied the diagram Sokka had drawn. He’d used circles for the women and squares for the men, but every square with a crown drawn inside it came from a succession of circles. “So Gaozu comes from this maternal line,” he surmised. “But Goren doesn’t?”

 

“Correct,” Sokka said, dusting off his hands. “But Goren’s  _ wife _ was from that bloodline, which means that his  _ daughter _ is as well.”

 

“But since his daughter can’t take the throne, he would be regent for her,” Aang guessed.

 

“Until she married and had a son, yes,” Sokka said, nodding. “And even then, until his grandson was an adult.”

 

Aang still didn’t understand. “But Gaozu’s claim is stronger,” he protested. “He’s the senior heir.”

 

“Well, even that’s not so simple,” Sokka replied, scratching at the scruff along his jawline. “We can trace Liu’s maternal line and Gaozu’s maternal line back to two sisters, four generations ago.” He held up two fingers, presumably representing the sisters. “The sister that Liu is descended from was the older of the two.” He pointed to his first finger. “But no sons have been born to her line. If Liu were to have a son, and Gaozu was not yet officially instated as the Earth King, Goren could make the case that the child’s claim should take precedence.”

 

Aang’s head was beginning to feel fuzzy. He could see why Katara had trouble keeping up with all this. Goren was starting to sound more personally ambitious than Aang thought a leader should be, but he knew nothing about Gaozu. The idea that he, as the Avatar, was going to be the one to settle this dispute seemed laughable. “All this royal succession stuff is so complicated,” he complained. “At the air temples, we just elected our leaders.”

 

“In the Water Tribes we do the same,” Sokka replied, folding his hands. “It’s just understood that the son of the previous chief will be the one elected, unless he doesn’t have a son.”

 

“Isn’t that better, not having to worry about bloodlines?” Aang asked. It had never concerned the councils of elders at the air temples if their members only had sons or daughters or had no children at all. 

 

Sokka shrugged. “You’ll find that these things matter much more to the rest of the world than they did to your people,” he said delicately.

 

“It’s not like it didn’t matter to us,” Aang protested, sitting up straighter. “I mean, we all knew who our parents were. But the idea of families...that was a worldly attachment, which we were supposed to be free from.”

 

“And were you free?” Sokka asked, politely curious.

 

Aang looked back at the city. Now that it was light out, he could see the trail they had followed into the hills, winding its way from the main road. “The monk who was my father died when I was ten,” he said, absently tracing lines in the dirt with his own finger, not making any particular pattern. “I went to the Northern Air Temple to see his ashes spread on the four winds, and I was completely at peace with it.” His hand stilled, and he looked down at the mess of lines he had drawn. “But when I found out they were going to send me away from Gyatso...I was so afraid. And then what happened to all of them...everyone I had known, and even the people I hadn’t known, all gone…” He smoothed the dirt flat with one palm, erasing his mindless doodles. “I don’t think the greatest airbender of all time could have been free enough to be at peace with that. And now…”

 

“Now you have formed new attachments,” Sokka finished his thought. “And you don’t want to let them go.” He didn’t have to specify who he was talking about.

 

“I was afraid something would happen to them,” Aang said, running his hand back and forth over the now smooth ground. “During the siege. That was why I let Hapas out.” He glanced at the spread of food Sokka had brought, but didn’t much feel like eating anymore. “Goren thinks I need to embrace my fear in order to control the Avatar State,” he said, taking it for granted that Sokka understood what the Avatar State was. He never needed anything explained to him.

 

This seemed to be a safe assumption, for Sokka showed no sign of confusion. “Goren might know about ruling a city,” he said, preparing another slice of bread with cheese and handing it to Aang, “but he’s no authority on being the Avatar.”

 

Aang took the food reluctantly. “Nobody is,” he said in frustration. “Not even you, unless you found something about the Avatar State in that library, too.”

 

Sokka looked thoughtful. “That’s an interesting idea,” he mused, gazing into the distance again. “I didn’t think to look for that last time…” He shrugged, and turned his attention back to Aang. “But Wan Si Tong might not be the only source of knowledge at your disposal, or even the best one. There were many Avatars before you.”

 

“Yeah,” Aang agreed half-heartedly. It was true that Avatar Roku had been the one to tell him about the Avatar State in the first place. “But I can’t exactly ask them for advice whenever I want, can I?”

 

“Maybe you can,” Sokka suggested. “I can’t call on the spirits, but when my mind is clear I can hear what they want to say to me. Perhaps you can do the same with your past lives.”

 

Aang supposed it was possible, but if it were that easy, he thought Roku should have mentioned it in his vision at the temple. Sokka insisted Aang finish eating, then brought him back into the city for his waterbending lessons, which Pakku took charge of today. Aang had thought Katara was demanding when she had first started teaching him, but Pakku took perfectionism to a whole new level. Aang suspected Katara’s high standards were in fact a tempered form of Pakku’s own demanding instructional style, passed on to her via Amaruk. Still, when Pakku stopped him in the middle of a spar to correct his footwork for the tenth time, he found himself already missing his original waterbending master.

 

He told Katara as much that evening when she asked him over dinner how his lesson had gone. He caught the glance she exchanged with Zuko before suggesting that he might prefer to spend more time training with the waterbenders from the Foggy Swamp instead, and he immediately regretted saying anything. He shouldn’t be trying to guilt Katara and Zuko into staying longer than they needed to.

 

As he prepared for bed that night, he thought over his conversation with Sokka again. Whether his fear was the key to controlling the Avatar State or not, he needed help from someone who actually knew what they were talking about. Instead of lying down, he sat lotus style on the bed and whispered the mantra of the night prayers that he had been neglecting as much as the rest of his meditation.

 

He had hoped for another vision of Roku. Instead, he fell asleep, and dreamed he was standing on a snow-covered mountain with Avatar Kuruk in his full warrior’s dress, wolfskin mantle over his head and whalebone spear in hand. The sky above them was clear blue, and the air was still. The sun hung directly overhead.

 

“Fire Lord Aizu’s death would have plunged the Fire Nation into civil war,” Kuruk said, forgoing any greeting or introduction. “His only child was an infant, too young to bend, and his brothers stood ready to fight each other, whether for the regency or the throne.”

 

“Okay, not that I don’t care about history,” Aang replied, anxious even in his dream state. “But I’m a little more worried about Ozai right now.” Katara had told him the story of how Avatar Kuruk saved the Fire Lord from an assassin, and he didn’t see how it was supposed to help him.

 

But Kuruk went on as if Aang had not spoken at all. “I brought the Fire Lord back from the brink of death in order to keep the fragile peace. I did this using the power of the Avatar State.”

 

Well, that was more interesting. “Were you afraid?” Aang asked.

 

This time, Kuruk answered him, though only briefly. “No.”

 

Aang frowned at the way he made it sound simple. “How is that possible?”

 

“Does a waterbender fear the ocean?” Kuruk asked. “If he does, he will drown. Just as a firebender who fears his element will burn, an earthbender will be crushed, an airbender will fall from the skies. No power can be exercised without confidence.”

 

Aang didn’t find that explanation helpful at all. “But how can I be confident about something I have no control over?”

 

Kuruk ignored his question again. “I saved the Fire Lord’s life because it had to be done. It was what the world needed. When you have accepted what the world needs, you will find your answer.”

 

A sudden gust of wind stirred up the loose snow beneath their feet, and everything disappeared in a haze of white. The rest of Aang’s sleep was dreamless, until he woke hunched over and sore the next morning.

 

* * *

 

_ Eastern Earth Kingdom - Eight Years Earlier _

 

Katara kept a close eye on the mysterious firebender in the days the followed the incident in the infirmary, but she learned little more about him. Whatever he had done, the sick children had not merely made improvement. They were all back on their feet within a few days, as healthy as could be expected given the conditions they lived in. As the hot summer days wound down towards their end, no new cases of the deadly fever cropped up, either. It seemed the plague had run its course.

 

The drought still had not broken, but with fewer patients in the infirmary, Katara was able to allocate a little more of their water to healing the firebender’s wound. Nivi had offered to take over at least some of these healing sessions, since Katara seemed so frustrated by them, but Katara had insisted the stranger’s care be left to her. It was the best excuse she had for keeping tabs on him.

 

The arrangement suited him as well, for when they were alone in the civilian tent she had relocated him to, he could steal a few minutes for firebending meditation with her as lookout. This meditation was necessary, he told her, for any firebender to maintain control of their element. With no authority on which to challenge it, Katara had no choice but to accept this explanation. He never tried anything with the fire he held in his hands, though, just made the flame shrink and grow in time with his breathing. Katara was just glad that her own element was not so precarious to control.

 

As the deeper muscle damage in his shoulder healed, Katara used less and less water, letting the skin take its own time. The infection turned out to be persistent, flaring up twice after she had thought it was eradicated, though it never got as bad as it had been when Shi Xin had first found him. But while his wound was gradually improving, the firebender’s attitude was not.

 

He never spoke to her unless prompted, and sometimes not even then. She only got a vague explanation of how he had cured the children, which made it clear that he had never been trained as a healer of any kind. He submitted to her treating his wound and changing his bandages as if it were a humiliating necessity, like he thought he should be above receiving help from her. And he refused to tell her his name.

 

Katara had treated other patients who had been stubborn or unpleasant - no one was at their best when they were sick or injured, after all - but none had infuriated her like this firebender. Sometimes she thought he was just arrogant and selfish, but then she remembered how he had felt some sort of obligation to help the children and had tried to keep it a secret. Even if he’d only done it because he felt beholden to her, that proved he wasn’t as proud or ungrateful as he acted.

 

“Are you from the colonies?” she asked one morning as she removed the old bandages from his shoulder.

 

“No,” he replied tersely as she examined the wound. The skin around it looked red and puffy again. Another flare up of the infection. She felt his forehead - warm, but no warmer than she’d learned was typical for him. And his pulse was steady. The infection didn’t seem to be spreading, even if it was refusing to go away.

 

“So you’re  _ really _ Fire Nation, then,” Katara concluded as she pressed a small amount of healing water to his shoulder. 

 

He only glared at her, but she had quickly become well-versed in his glares, and she was confident that was the one that meant “yes, obviously” and not “no, you idiot”. It probably also meant “stop talking about it”, but she ignored that.

 

“Outer islands or big island?” she asked as she checked the results of her healing. Better, but it still had a long way to go. She didn’t want to use up any more water until the porters got back. “I’m guessing outer islands,” she went on to fill the silence left by her patient. She reached for the ointment she’d brought with her and carefully spread a thin layer around the tender skin on his shoulder.

 

“Big island,” he mumbled, as if he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to contradict her.

 

“My apologies,” she said sarcastically as she wrapped clean bandages over his shoulder. “You haven’t given me much to go on.”

 

He gave her the “yes, obviously” glare again. He was being stubborn on purpose. She threw his borrowed green tunic back at him. He gingerly pulled it on as she closed the jar of ointment, then crossed his legs and cupped his hands in his lap. The little flame he meditated with burst into life and quickly synchronized with his breathing.

 

Katara watched him, listening carefully for the sound of approaching footsteps but knowing they were unlikely to be disturbed. Nobody in the camp cared much about her reclusive patient. Shi Xin had lost interest in the stranger once Katara had told him he was just a drifter, and assured him he was harmless. She hoped that had been the right call.

 

He looked peaceful when he meditated, and his fire didn’t look threatening at all. But he had said he was there during the burning, and the thought had crossed her mind that a firebender couldn’t have been doing anything honorable on that day. Yet he had insisted he was anything but an agent of the Phoenix King. And he had healed the children.

 

It all came back to that. Katara had accepted what Kida and the others had all repeatedly told her, that healing was the gift of the bending women of the Water Tribes. The story of Avatar Kuruk had been easy enough to dismiss. If it had turned out to be true after all, she would have guessed air was the element he had used. She never would have thought fire could be anything but destructive.

 

This insufferable boy had proved her wrong. That both aggravated and intrigued her, as did the fact that he didn’t even seem to realize the momentousness of what he’d done. Part of her, the sensible part, wouldn’t be at ease until he was gone. The other part wanted to find out as much as she could about who he was and where he had come from before that happened.

 

He closed his hands into fists, snuffing out the flame, and opened his eyes to catch her staring. He frowned, the peaceful look disappearing from his face faster than the flames from his hands. “What?” he demanded.

 

“Nothing,” Katara snapped. She gathered up her things and left the tent. She couldn’t wait until he was well enough to leave.

 

* * *

 

_ Omashu - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

The palace gardens were not yet at their prime, so early in the spring, but they were still peaceful. There had been so much for Zuko to do in the weeks since their victory - helping Sokka and the General sort through the governor’s papers, advising them on how to go about obtaining a ransom for the governor himself, and, at Sokka’s suggestion, meeting with the new Fire Nation defectors to reassure them that they had done the right thing by renouncing the Phoenix King. He would have thought he was the worst person for that job, but most of the recruits had been awed by his presence. In spite of what Ukon had said, Zuko had been surprised to learn that to those dissatisfied with his father’s rule or terrified of his sister, he had become something of a hero, his exile a mark of honor rather than shame.

 

But even more troubling that his own unanticipated esteem, the defectors who had seen the Avatar storm the city spoke of a woman with dark blue skin and white hair, rather than a boy with airbender tattoos. When Aang had emerged from the vault at Roku’s temple, it had been the previous Avatar that Zuko and Katara had seen at first, but what the soldiers described was no previous incarnation. It was a spirit. Aang had confirmed this when Zuko had asked him about it, saying Hapas had been the one to take the city. As much as they all disliked the idea of the Avatar State, in its most disturbing appearance yet it had been crucial to their victory.

 

Word of this had inevitably spread among the leadership of the Allies - they had stopped using the name Underground, now that their forces were as much Water Tribe as Earth Kingdom - and Zuko had been party to many arguments about whether they could rely on the Avatar State in future battles. He was firmly of the opinion that whether or not they could, they should not. But he knew Goren thought otherwise, and Kwon was not convinced. Hakoda agreed with him, but Pakku insisted that it would be necessary for Aang to master the Avatar State whether he intended to use it or not.

 

He was glad that Katara had dragged him away from all those concerns this afternoon. They walked hand in hand through the gardens, reminiscing about things that had nothing to do with battle plans or intelligence reports or politics. The time they had spent in Omashu, a little over a year between the second and third siege, had been a major turning point in their relationship.

 

They reached the fountain with the carved marble figures of the two lovers for whom the city was named. The red and blue paint on the statues was faded, and the fountain was dry, like all the other fountains in the garden, not yet started up for the season. Zuko supposed the palace staff had had other priorities lately. But Katara still smiled when she saw it.

 

“What?” Zuko asked, knowing full well what she was remembering.

 

Katara fiddled with her necklace. “I’m just thinking about how the man I married can be such a hopeless romantic sometimes.”

 

“I didn’t think I was being romantic,” Zuko protested, wrapping both his arms around her waist. He didn’t bother to fight his own nostalgic grin. “It was just obvious.”

 

Katara stood on her toes to give him a quick kiss. “That’s what made it so sweet, dear.”

 

They spent a long time by that fountain before they continued their walk. They had lapsed into silence, and soon Zuko could tell that Katara was thinking of something more serious. There was a little line between her brows, and the corners of her mouth were firm.

 

“What’s bothering you?” he asked.

 

Katara pulled him towards a stone bench by the side of the path, and sat down. “Aang will be ready to start earthbending soon, and Pakku or Chief Huu could finish his waterbending training.”

 

Zuko remained standing, but held on to Katara’s hand. “You think we can go home now,” he said. The time they had spent away from Arvik was shorter than they had expected after Kohnna’s death, but already longer than either of them had wished.

 

“Can we?” Katara asked, squeezing his hand tighter, her eyes longing but her voice doubtful.

 

“I guess we could. Neither of us is immediately necessary here and now.” But as much as he might want to believe that his duty was done, Zuko had reservations of his own. “Of course, once he’s mastered earthbending, Aang will need a firebending master, too.”

 

Katara clearly understood what he was getting at. “There must be plenty of people who could do that, with all the new defectors,” she insisted.

 

“Most of them are nonbenders, actually,” Zuko said. The majority of the army was comprised of nonbenders anyway, and it seemed the firebenders who had been captured, who tended to be higher ranking officers, were also more likely to remain loyal to his father. “And the firebenders we do have came up through the military schools - they don’t know any of the classical forms.”

 

“So you think you should be the one to teach him,” Katara said, finally putting into words what they had both been thinking. “You’re probably right,” she admitted, letting go of his hand. She folded both her hands together in her lap, eyes downcast. “Aang already looks up to you so much.”

 

Zuko sat down beside her. “That doesn’t mean you have to stay. You could still go back with your father.” Katara had finally prevailed upon Hakoda to return to the chiefly responsibilities she felt he had been neglecting, and Zuko knew his father-in-law would be more than happy to have Katara come home with him. She wasn’t supposed to have been part of this in the first place, and had only come because of something Inuk had said about the tides. But tides had to go in as well as out, didn’t they? Surely she should be allowed to do the same.

 

“I could,” Katara agreed. “But we did promise Aang...”

 

She didn’t finish that thought, nor did she need to. The impulsive protectiveness of the boy they had both felt had taken far deeper root than they had anticipated. Doing what was best for their son would feel like doing a disservice to Aang. “You don’t have to decide right now,” Zuko reminded her. “Your father’s not leaving for another three weeks.”

 

Katara nodded, but further discussion was forestalled by an excited female voice calling out, “Zuko! Katara! We’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Ty Lee came dancing down the garden path. “There’s someone you both need to meet!” She waved her hand with a flourish towards the two people following her at a more sedate pace.

 

The person Ty Lee presumably meant was the young Earth Kingdom man with long hair, for her other companion was well known to Zuko, though he had only seen her once in the last decade, and he didn’t think she had ever met Katara. “Mai?” he asked in surprise. “You’re still here?” He would have guessed she had left the city as soon as she could.

 

“Unfortunately,” Mai replied, her voice as flat as he remembered. “It turns out this crummy city has enough redeeming features to keep me here after all.” But she glanced at the man standing next to her as she said it, and one corner of her mouth twitched upward just a little. He smiled back at her, as if this was actually a shared joke. “This is Haru,” she said, indicating her companion.

 

Katara introduced herself as well, and there was an awkward exchange of pleasantries which Ty Lee did her best to smooth over. Zuko wasn’t surprised that she was so happy to have found Mai again - the two of them had always been closer to each other than either had been with Azula - but he wasn’t sure why she seemed so intent on bringing him and Katara into their little friendship circle. Nor did he know what to make of Haru, who claimed to be nothing more than an earthbender who put his modest talents to work as a journeyman stonemason. 

 

It was Katara who finally ventured a more serious topic. “You were the informant, weren’t you?” she asked Mai. “The one who told Sokka about the city’s defences?”

 

“I was,” Mai confirmed without elaborating.

 

“That was you?” Zuko blurted out, then turned to Katara. “That was her?”

 

“Sokka didn’t tell you?” Katara replied.

 

“I’m surprised he told  _ you _ ,” Mai said, giving her a pointed look. “Since I asked him to keep it quiet.”

 

“Well, anyway,” Haru cut in awkwardly. “We weren’t looking for you guys so we could talk about the war.”

 

“That’s right!” Ty Lee agreed, with even more than her typical enthusiasm. Inserting herself between Mai and Haru, she threw an arm around each of their shoulders. “Tell them the good news!”

 

Mai pushed Ty Lee off of them, straightened the collar of her dark green dress, and took hold of Haru’s hand. “Now that I don’t have to play nice with Ozai’s governor anymore, Haru and I are getting married.”

 

Katara recovered from her surprise before Zuko did. “Congratulations,” she said. “When is the wedding?”

 

“In two weeks,” Haru said with a smile. “We’ve waited long enough, so we’re not planning on a big affair. But…” He trailed off, looking back at Mai. His betrothed.

 

“You’re invited,” Mai said.

 

Ty Lee squealed with delight. “Isn’t this great?” she enthused, this time grabbing Zuko to hug. “It’s almost as romantic as when you and Katara got married!”

 

“Yeah,” Zuko said, a bit breathless from how hard Ty Lee was squeezing him. He pried her off of him, and she latched on to Katara instead, still gushing. Zuko met Mai’s eyes awkwardly. She hadn’t been invited to his wedding. “You’ll have to tell me about how you two met.”

 

“It’s not that interesting,” Mai deflected. Haru laughed, and Zuko must have been seeing things, because it looked like Mai actually blushed. Maybe his brain was still oxygen deprived from Ty Lee’s idea of a hug.

 

“We’ll have to come up with a good story to tell people,” Haru joked. “You know everyone’s going to be asking that.”

 

“Maybe you shouldn’t have shaved your mustache,” Mai shot back. “That would have distracted them.”

 

The sight of Mai actually joking with the man she planned to marry was truly too much to be believed. Rescuing his wife from Ty Lee’s clutches, Zuko made their polite excuses. He and Katara managed to escape the awkward reunion at last, but not without promising the couple that they would in fact be attending their upcoming nuptials.

 

Katara looked over her shoulder to make sure they were out of earshot before she burst out laughing. “That is officially the strangest thing I have ever seen,” she said, shaking her head.

 

“I think Mai seems...happy,” Zuko ventured. “Though, it’s hard to tell.”

 

“Well, good for her,” Katara said, looping her arm around his. “I told you she would turn out alright in the end.”

 

Zuko gave her a doubtful look. They had briefly discussed Mai’s potential to change sides after Ty Lee’s defection, but he didn’t think Katara had been quite so certain in her optimism then. “The way I remember it, you said it was a distant possibility.”

 

“Did I?” Katara said airily. “I must have had other things on my mind at the time.”

 

Zuko caught her hand where it rested on his forearm and pressed her fingers to his lips. “I think you did,” he agreed.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we're back! Thank you for your patience during the hiatus. I hope this chapter was worth the wait.
> 
> In order to keep to a regular update schedule, new chapters will be posted every two weeks from now on. Look for the next one on Friday, October 26th.
> 
> A little teaser: Book II, Chapter 2 is called The Bride Price, and features not one but two weddings.


	20. The Bride Price

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko and Katara attend the wedding of an old acquaintance, while Aang makes a friend. In the past, Toph's life is a series of negotiations.

**Book II: Earth**

 

**Chapter 2: The Bride Price**

 

_ Omashu - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

Mai and Haru’s wedding really was a modest affair. The guest list was short, since neither of them had any family in the city - Haru’s friends, mostly fellow stoneworkers, and a few neighbors made up the groom’s side, while Ty Lee had been allowed to stretch the bride’s side to include her fellow Kyoshi warriors, Sokka, and of course, Zuko and Katara. The bride herself clearly would have been content with even less, evidently more concerned with marrying the man she wanted than with the attendant ceremonies.

 

Mai wore green like an Earth Kingdom bride, though it didn’t seem like she and Haru could afford much gold. There was no procession, just the ceremony at a small neighborhood shrine followed by the wedding banquet, graciously hosted by the master stonemason with whom Haru had been apprenticed until recently. Katara quietly noted the absence of any Fire Nation traditions. Zuko replied just as quietly that the couple might have felt Mai’s heritage was a sensitive issue to some of their guests. Or, just as likely, Mai simply didn’t care.

 

There was dancing at the party, though after the obligatory first dance with her new husband, Mai stayed out of it. She never had liked dancing, though Ty Lee of course loved it. Zuko had quickly figured out that most of the details of this wedding party, including his own invitation, must have been Ty Lee’s idea. She was certainly the most enthusiastic dancer, though most of the other Kyoshi warriors were also quick to find partners - Suki being the notable exception, sitting far away from Sokka, both of them looking rather morose. 

 

Katara took in her brother’s pathetic appearance with a frown. “Go ahead,” Zuko told her.

 

She gave him an apologetic smile. “You won’t mind if I ditch you for a bit?” she joked.

 

But before she got the change to do so, the bridal couple finally made their way over to thank them for coming, Haru’s politeness as warm as Mai’s was cool. 

 

“Don’t look now,” Katara said, looking past Haru. “But I think Ty Lee wants you for the next dance.” Sure enough, Ty Lee was making her way towards them, the bright pink dress she had worn for the occasion unmissable.

 

“Then I’d better find another partner quickly,” Haru replied. Ty Lee’s idea of dancing was akin to her idea of hugs, and Zuko didn’t blame the man for wanting to get out of it.

 

“Don’t look at me,” Mai said, sitting in the vacant place next to Katara as if to emphasize her unwillingness to return to the dance floor. “Why don’t you dance with her?” she suggested, with an extremely unladylike jerk of her thumb in Katara’s direction. Katara’s eyebrows shot up.

 

Haru gave a good-natured shrug and offered Katara his hand. “Would you?”

 

Katara agreed, letting Haru lead her to the dance floor. Ty Lee looked disappointed only for a split second, before she turned her sights on one of Haru’s friends instead. 

 

Zuko, now left alone with the bride, took the opportunity to study her carefully. Mai was every bit as guarded as he had ever known her to be, but there was something a little less dour about her attitude. On the surface, she was as cold to Haru as to anyone else, but her new husband seemed to take it in stride, as if it was just a game between them. Zuko couldn’t say he understood, but then, when it came to his sister’s former friends, he never had.

 

“Well, congratulations,” Zuko said, to fill the awkward silence. “It’s a nice wedding.”

 

“Thanks,” Mai replied, watching the dancers disinterestedly. “I hate parties.” That much, at least, had not changed.

 

“You shouldn’t have let Ty Lee plan it then,” Zuko said.

 

That actually got an amused snort, also very unladylike. If Mai’s mother could have seen how her daughter was behaving at her own wedding to an Earth Kingdom peasant, she probably would have fainted.

 

“I would have liked to see  _ you _ try to stop her,” Mai defended herself. Zuko glanced at the young man Ty Lee was vigorously swinging around the dance floor and had to admit she had a point. He could have argued that Ty Lee had not taken over  _ his _ wedding, but then, he had been marrying Katara, who was herself a force to be reckoned with.

 

Not that Mai couldn’t put her foot down when she really wanted to, Zuko knew. As the lull in the conversation stretched on uncomfortably, he decided to risk bringing up that subject. “So what made you change your mind about helping the resistance, if you don’t mind me asking?”

 

Mai gave him a sideways glance. “I do mind, actually.”

 

“Okay. Sorry.” Zuko suspected anyway that the answer was currently dancing with his wife. If either of the happy couple was a positive influence on the other, it had to be him. “Well, I don’t know if Sokka has told you about his plans for the next campaign…”

 

“He tried,” Mai cut him off. “I didn’t want to hear it from him either.”

 

“So that’s it?” Zuko asked. This probably wasn’t the best time or place to discuss war business, but it wasn’t like he and Mai had loads of other things to talk about. “You helped us take Omashu and now you’re out?”

 

“That’s the idea,” Mai said, folding her arms. “I’ve done my part, haven’t I? I’m not giving my whole life to this damn war. And if you were smart, neither would you.”

 

“Okay,” Zuko said, taken aback by her ferocity. He definitely shouldn’t have brought up the subject. “Obviously you feel strongly about this.”

 

Mai looked at him blankly for a moment. When she spoke again, the usual edge to her voice was blunted. “Ty Lee said you and Katara have a son.”

 

“Yeah,” Zuko said. He could already see where she was going with this, and was regretting having started this conversation even more. “Arvik. He’s three.”

 

“So don’t tell me this,” Mai said with a vague wave of her hand, “is what you want to be doing with your life.”

 

“Of course it’s not,” Zuko agreed. Of course what he wanted was to be left in peace with his family. “I just...don’t think I can back out with a clear conscience at this point.” How had this become about him anyway?

 

“Well, I can,” Mai argued. “Not all of us have some grand destiny to fulfill, you know.”

 

“Yeah, well,” Zuko said as the current song came to an end and the dancers paused. “Enjoy it then.” His own destiny was once again a touchy subject these days, in spite of how he had thought the question settled three years ago.

 

Before Mai could respond, Ty Lee came hurrying over, scolding Zuko for hogging the bride and whisking her away. Katara glanced over at him, and he nodded in Sokka’s direction, encouraging her to see to her brother like she had wanted to earlier. Haru rejoined his own wife, who was now listening patiently as Ty Lee spoke animatedly to Suki. Mai discretely slipped her hand in his when he came to her side.

 

Zuko honestly wished that he could take her advice and just go home, leaving the war to be fought by other people. He and Katara had certainly tried to do that before, and look what had happened. Once again, forces beyond his control had their own ideas about the direction his life should take, and they didn’t seem to care what he wanted.

 

* * *

 

_ Gaoling - One Year Earlier _

 

Seated in front of the useless mirror of her vanity, while her mother brushed her hair, Toph Bei Fong fidgeted with a jade bracelet, bending the smooth stone into smaller pieces and then fusing them back together. Her mother gave her a pert tap on the shoulder with the hairbrush. “Stop that,” she scolded.

 

“Would you rather I play with the silver?” Toph asked innocently, obediently setting the bracelet down whole on the vanity and picking up a pair of earrings.

 

“You know that I would not,” her mother replied, dragging the brush through her hair one last time. Setting it aside, she picked up a comb instead and began separating Toph’s hair into the different sections the elaborate style she had planned would require. 

 

Toph put the earrings down as well. Getting caught breaking her mother’s silver jewelry while trying to practice her new-found metalbending capabilities was how Toph had first been drawn into the game of negotiations that had led to this day. A bit more freedom to earthbend here, a bit of forgetting to tell her father about certain incidents there, and Poppy Bei Fong had herself a compliant and attentive daughter.

 

As her mother twisted, rolled, and pinned her hair into place, Toph began picking at her fingernails. They were already cleaned and manicured, but she needed something to do with her hands. Of course, her mother soon scolded her for that, as well. “Honestly, Toph, I’ve never known you to be so nervous,” she said, sliding a decorative comb into the twist of hair on top of her head.

 

“Well, I’ve never gotten married before, have I?” Toph replied sarcastically.

 

That had been the final round of their negotiating game - with the Earth Rumble long ago shut down by the authorities, Toph had agreed to go along with her parents’ plans to arrange a suitable marriage, provided she got to make the final selection from among the candidates they chose. Ironically, she knew the man she had chosen was precisely the match her mother had wanted for her - and that her uncle had wanted as well. It was amazing how even her own family sometimes seemed to forget that she was blind, not deaf.

 

But while Sanjay was the marriage market triple threat - heir to a fortune, land, and a title - he was also honest, clever, and a fairly skilled earthbender. Not as skilled an earthbender as her, but then, who was? And he hadn’t blushed about propriety when she’d challenged him to a secret bending battle, nor had he been bothered when he lost. Toph actually liked the guy.

 

Still, that didn’t mean she was totally unconcerned about marrying him.

 

“I’ve told you, you have nothing to worry about,” her mother reminded her. “When I married your father, I’d never even laid eyes on him before…”

 

“Technically,” Toph interrupted, “I’ve never laid eyes on Sanjay, either.”

 

“You know what I mean,” her mother said shortly. She pinned the final twist of hair into place, then added one more ornament. “There. You look lovely.”

 

“I’ll take your word for it,” Toph replied. There were footsteps in the corridor heading towards her room, the distinctive light tred of one of her mother’s attendants. “Basma’s coming.”

 

“To help you dress,” her mother said with a nod. Toph would have preferred to have her own maid assist her, but Basma was the oldest woman in the household, and that was supposed to be good luck for a bride, as if some of her longevity would rub off on the marriage. Toph stood, her posture perfect lest her mother’s hard work on her hair be undone, and twisted the ties of her dressing gown in her hands. “Relax,” her mother admonished her, taking hold of her hands to still them.

 

Basma reached the door and knocked lightly, and her mother bid her to come in. Basma slid the door closed behind her and bowed. “You look lovely, miss,” she said, echoing her mother’s compliment. At least Toph knew they were both being sincere about that.

 

Her mother gently tugged the dressing gown off of her while Basma fussed over the ornate and intricate dress that Toph would wear for the ceremony - all green and gold, she had been assured, not that it made any difference to her. Layer after layer of fabric was draped over her petite frame - in spite of all her adolescent hopes for more height, at twenty-one she remained shorter even than her mother, who was not so tall herself.

 

“How is that?” Basma asked as she tied the stiff material of the broad decorative sash around Toph’s waist.

 

“It’s a little tight,” Toph complained. 

 

“It’s supposed to be tight,” her mother said.

 

Basma chuckled. “Well, miss hardly needs help looking any smaller,” she joked.

 

“It encourages good posture as well,” her mother replied sternly. She never liked it when the servants joked.

 

“Miss hardly needs help with that either,” Basma muttered under her breath. But in obedience to her mother’s wishes, she left the sash as tight as she had tied it, finishing off the ends in a bow. Toph smothered her own argument, knowing it wasn’t worth it. After today, her mother would have no more say over how she dressed. Her new husband would, but it was hard to imagine him caring how tightly she wore her sash.

 

The jewelry was the last step. Her mother hooked the silver earrings she had threatened earlier through her ears, and Toph shook her hands free of the wide sleeves of her dress in order to slide the jade bracelet and its twin onto her wrists. There was a pair of gold rings as well, set with emeralds, that had been included with her bride price. They fit perfectly on the middle finger of each hand. Privately, Toph thought of them as the price of her freedom. 

 

Her father also commented on how lovely she looked when he saw her. There was unmistakable pride in his voice, and Toph knew that being able to marry off their daughter so well was something both of her parents had once feared would be impossible, due to her “fragile” condition. She had proved them wrong in that much, at least. Her mother and father held her hands as the bridal procession made its way from the Bei Fong estate to the villa where Sanjay was staying, one of his family’s more modest properties which was still on par with the finest homes in Gaoling. Oh yes, her father had every reason to be proud of her.

 

She did resent that people would think she needed her parents’ escort, the blind bride unable to find her own way. But Sanjay would know better, and that was what counted, so she submitted to the tradition. They would only hold her hands for a little while longer.

 

Her bridegroom was waiting for them outside the gates of the villa, with all his own attendants. Toph could feel his heart beat faster as they approached. Perhaps he was nervous, too. There was a formal exchange of ritualized phrases between him and her father, and then Toph’s parents said their last goodbyes to their daughter. Her mother, at least, did not have to work hard to summon the tears that were expected of her.

 

But when her mother finally let her go, and her father placed her hand on top of Sanjay’s, Toph felt nothing but elation. Together, the bridal couple led the procession towards the shrine where the ceremony would take place, and her parents, for once, followed her lead.

 

* * *

 

_ Omashu - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

After she thanked Haru for the dance, Katara looked back towards Zuko to see Ty Lee whisking Mai away from him. He gave her a nod of encouragement, and she went and sat next to Sokka, who was still by himself, resting his chin on one hand and watching the dancers with an absent expression. He was far from the life of the party she knew he once would have been.

 

“Nice wedding, huh?” Katara prompted, leaning her elbow on the table to mimic Sokka’s posture.

 

“Huh?” Sokka said, eyes still far away. “Yeah, it’s nice.”

 

Katara decided to broach a subject she had wanted to talk to him about for a while. “You know, if you had asked me whose wedding I’d be attending after we took Omashu, I really would have guessed you and Suki.”

 

Sokka grimaced. “Yeah, I would have liked that,” he admitted.

 

“So what happened?” Katara pressed. She doubted Suki had simply turned him down, given how evasive and moody they both were whenever someone brought up their current relationship status. “And don’t just say it’s complicated. Is it because her mother doesn’t approve?”

 

Sokka shook his head. “You know Suki wouldn’t let that stop her. And actually, I think Sachiko might be relieved if her daughter got married.” He folded his arms on the table and glanced sadly over to where Suki was now talking to Ty Lee and Mai. She, at least, seemed to have been cheered up by her fellow Kyoshi warrior. “Dad was the one who said no,” Sokka added softly.

 

“What?” Katara said, letting her own hand fall to the table as well. “Why would he do that?”

 

“Oh, something about how he thinks the future chief of the Southern Water Tribe needs a respectable Water Tribe woman for a wife,” Sokka replied with a dismissive wave of his hand. The sarcastic tone almost made him sound like his old self again. “He suggested Minak.” 

 

“Amaruk’s daughter?” Katara asked incredulously. “Has he lost his mind?” Her father, who had been sailing all over the world for years rather than actually governing their tribe, was hardly in a position to lecture Sokka about the responsibilities of the chief, and if the only interest he was going to take in his own duties was matchmaking for his son, he could at least be more sensible about it.

 

“Well, it would pretty much be her or Lagora at this point,” Sokka reasoned, defending their father to her as he had done so many times before. “Ania’s too young for me, and Keela’s too old.” He sighed and slouched in his seat, leaning his chin on his folded arms. “Doesn’t matter anyway. I’m not marrying any of them.”

 

Remembering why she had come over here in the first place, Katara tried to put her old issues with their father’s judgement aside and bring a little more levity to the conversation. “Who would have thought Dad would object to you marrying a girl from the Earth Kingdom more than he did to me marrying a firebender?” It still came out sounding bitter on her brother’s behalf.

 

“It’s not just Dad,” Sokka said tiredly. Katara was really doing a terrible job of cheering him up. “I could have fought him harder, but…”

 

“But your spirit thing?” Katara guessed. She would have been more than happy not to press him for details there, but after everything that had happened at the North Pole and since, she had a feeling the spirits weren’t going to leave her alone either. Was this what it had been like for Sokka the last few years, this quiet dread of what the spirits would say or do next?

 

“Yeah, the spirit thing, basically,” Sokka confirmed. “What I know now…” He shrugged. “I just know it won’t work out for us. So no point leading Suki on or fighting with Dad about it.”

 

“Sokka,” Katara said carefully, putting a hand on his shoulder. “If you knew something bad was going to happen, you’d tell me, right?”

 

Sokka looked up at her, considering. “Yeah,” he said at last. “Yeah, I would, if I thought it was something really bad.” He sat up straighter, pulled her into a side hug, and suddenly her big brother was the one comforting her. “Don’t worry about it.”

 

Well, that was easier said than done, Katara thought. Of course she was going to worry. “Do they really show you the future?” she asked, not sure what answer she was hoping for.

 

“Not exactly,” Sokka said, letting go of her shoulders and making a wobbly gesture with his hand. “There’s never much detail. But I know what I have to do, and I know...certain possibilities, if other people make certain choices.” He folded his hands under his chin, leaning on the table again. “But I don’t know if they will.”

 

“If you know,” Katara said, “couldn’t you...convince them to?” There wouldn’t be much point in the spirits giving her brother this knowledge if he couldn’t do anything with it, after all.

 

“What do you think I’ve been trying to do?” Sokka said with a grin. At least he no longer looked so glum. “Believe it or not, ‘you have to do this because the spirits told me so’ isn’t a winning argument for most people.”

 

“It wouldn’t have been a winning argument for you, once,” Katara pointed out.

 

Sokka fixed her with a piercing look. “And once, for you, it would have been.”

 

Katara frowned, not liking the turn this conversation had taken. “What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked indignantly.

 

Sokka was unwavering. “You don’t like what Yue told your husband,” he said, his tone not accusatory, but firm nonetheless.

 

“Did you talk to Zuko about that?” Katara asked, scooting away from him a bit on the bench. But she didn’t give him a chance to answer. “No, of course not, your spirit friends told you,” she concluded bitterly. Sokka didn’t try to argue with that, but he did look away from her. “Maybe you should ask them to give you a little more clarity about your own life, and less gossip about other people.”

 

“Katara, there are some things we can’t run from,” Sokka said. “We’re born into them.”

 

Katara followed his gaze, and saw he was looking at Suki. Ty Lee had pulled her to her feet and was dragging her towards the dance floor, while Mai and Haru spoke to another one of their guests. “You sound like Gran Gran,” Katara observed, looking back at Sokka.

 

That at least got a genuine smile out of Sokka. “She’s a smart woman.”

 

“You know what else she would say?” Katara said, grabbing her brother’s arm and hauling him to his feet as well. “That it’s rude to sulk at a party. Come on, dance with me.”

 

Sokka obliged, and joining the festivities did seem to draw him out of the funk he had been in. When Zuko cut in to claim her for the next dance, Sokka found one of the Kyoshi girls to be his partner instead, and that was the end of his wallflower act. Though Katara couldn’t help but notice, as the celebration wound to an end, that he had never danced with Suki.

 

* * *

 

_ Gaoling - One Year Earlier _

 

The first three weeks of Toph’s married life were everything she had hoped. The traditional three days of feasting were reduced to just two, on account of her husband’s father not being there, and once the receiving of guests and their congratulations was done, the newlywed couple was left in peace. For Toph, this meant that for the first time in her life, she didn’t have to worry about her mother or father looking over her shoulder.

 

She had duties, of course, as the mistress of the household, but the villa was smaller than her family’s estate, and the staff needed little oversight from her. If she got up later than the crack of dawn, no one complained - the mistress set the pace for the rest of the household. If her dresses were plain or her hair hung in her face, no one cared - a married woman could present herself how she chose, so long as her husband approved. And Toph’s husband seemed to approve of everything she did.

 

On some days, they would leave the villa - through the front gate, no sneaking around required - and hike into the rocky hills that surrounded the town, just the two of them. There Toph could earthbend to her heart’s content. Sometimes Sanjay would join her, sometimes he would just watch. Occasionally they would spar. While he had definitely learned a thing or two since their first match, she still beat him every time, and he still didn’t seem to mind.

 

When the morning dawned hot and humid on their three week anniversary, promising muggy summer weather even though it was still only spring, Sanjay announced that they would be making another trip today, to someplace special. Toph dressed lightly - a short-sleeve tunic and loose-fitting, knee-length trousers, which were technically a Fire Nation style, though she had been assured that these were an appropriate Earth Kingdom shade of green. As usual, she opted to go barefoot.

 

Sanjay led her by the hand away from their usual mountain trails - not because he thought she needed it, but just because he wanted to hold her hand. “There,” he said triumphantly as they came over a ridge, apparently reaching their destination. “What do you think?”

 

“It’s...a lake?” Toph replied uncertainly. She couldn’t sense water the way she could her own element, but wet earth had a distinct feel, and something was making gentle waves against the sodden ground ahead of them.

 

“Not a bad way to deal with the heat, right?” Sanjay said, leading her down towards the water.

 

“Right,” Toph agreed, letting go of his hand. She tested the water with her toes, and found it deliciously cool. Heading back a few paces onto dry ground, she stripped off her tunic and shorts - her mother would have been scandalized, but that was too bad, wasn’t it? She felt Sanjay’s heartbeat quicken, and wondered for a moment if he was nervous about her going in the lake - odd, since it was his idea - before she realized what else that could mean. Well, she thought with a shy grin, it was hot. She was going in the water.

 

She waded in up to her hips, keeping one foot firmly on the muddy bottom at all times. Her sense of the world around her shrank to a much smaller radius, but it was still good enough to feel Sanjay following behind her. He grabbed both of her hands, and pulled her further into the lake, but when the water was up to her waist she dug her feet into the mud. “That’s far enough,” she said.

 

“Don’t you know how to swim?” Sanjay asked.

 

“And when do you think delicate little Toph Bei Fong would have been allowed to go swimming?” she shot back, sarcasm covering what definitely  _ was _ a flutter of nerves in her stomach. They were already at the edge of her comfort zone.

 

“Well, maybe Miss Bei Fong wasn’t allowed,” Sanjay teased, tugging on her arms playfully. “But you certainly are.” He gave her more deliberate tug, and her shaky footing in the mud broke. She stumbled forward gracelessly, instinctively wrapping her arms tight around Sanjay’s middle when she collided with him.

 

“You don’t get it,” Toph said, scrambling to find her footing again. Sweet, spirits-blessed mud squelched between her toes, and something of the world came back into focus. “I can’t  _ feel _ anything in the water.”

 

Sanjay was quiet for a moment. His heart was still beating fast, and she didn’t let go of him, afraid he might try something else. He had stepped back when she crashed into him, and they were in water up to her armpits now. She shivered, no longer feeling the heat of the day at all, and Sanjay settled his arms around her shoulders. “You can feel me, can’t you?” he said softly. “Do you trust me?”

 

“Of course,” Toph replied. She trusted him enough to marry him, enough to put her long-sought freedom in his hands, and so far he hand only proven himself worthy of that trust. But this felt bigger even than that, a level of total dependence that frightened her. In deep water, she would be every bit as helpless as her parents had once thought her.

 

“Then  _ trust me _ ,” Sanjay insisted. “We don’t need to go any deeper for now. The first step is just learning to float.”

 

“Okay,” Toph said, her voice shaking. “I’ll try floating.”

 

Sanjay bent down and hooked one arm behind her knees. The world disappeared into nothing more than the cool water of the lake, except for the feel of her husband’s hands supporting her and the sound of his voice encouraging her as he helped her lie flat on her back on the surface. Floating, as it turned out, wasn’t so bad after all, as long as he didn’t let go of her. She could still feel his pulse, when his wrists pressed against her back, or when he held her close to his bare chest, and it beat quick and strong - not, she was sure, from nerves, and she was beginning to suspect not just from desire either.

 

The following day was just as hot, and Toph thought they might return to the lake. But she found the household in a state of frenzied activity, and her husband going through papers in his study, already dressed for more strenuous travel.

 

“What’s going on?” Toph asked. They were supposed to stay in Gaoling until the end of the summer, before moving on to Sanjay’s personal estate further east in the fall. As far as she knew, there was no reason he should need to travel far before then.

 

“A letter came last night,” Sanjay said, pointing at one of the papers on his desk. There was a hardness in his voice she had never heard before. He sounded resolute. His heartbeat did not quicken.

 

“You know I can’t read that,” Toph reminded him impatiently. “What did the letter say?”

 

Sanjay sighed, rolling up certain documents and packing them into a box. “My father is dead,” he said bluntly. “A sudden illness. The Phoenix King wants me to go north and take his place as governor.”

 

“You’re not going,” Toph said, a statement, not a question. Politics had not been a consideration in the arrangement of their marriage, but she couldn’t believe he would want to work for Ozai, even if his father had. He’d said he had left Penkou Province and come to the south to get away from all that.

 

Sanjay shut the lid of the box with a snap. “If I don’t, they’ll...take my family’s lands away.” She didn’t need to hear the hesitation in his voice to know that wasn’t the whole truth.

 

“You wouldn’t do it just for that,” Toph challenged him. “What else did the letter say?”

 

“Don’t worry about it,” Sanjay brushed her off. He opened the top drawer of his desk, then shut it just as quickly and tried the one below it. Toph could hear servants scurrying back and forth in the corridor outside, packing up their things for the trip and preparing the villa to stand empty once again, ahead of schedule.

 

“You expect me not to worry?” she asked incredulously. “I’m not a child, you can tell me what’s really going on.”

 

“You are my wife,” Sanjay said, slamming the lower drawer shut. “What I expect is for you to follow my lead.” He grabbed the box off the top of the desk and stormed out of the room, quite sensibly, before Toph could recover enough to earthbend him through the floor. He had lied to her. He had never lied to her before.

 

By the time she joined him again at the gates of the villa, now dressed for travel herself, Toph was considerably more composed. “My lady,” one of the servants said, bowing in deference and holding back the curtain of the palanquin that would take her to the harbor, where a ship was waiting to bring them north to the colonies. Without complaint, she accepted her husband’s hand to help her into the awful contraption. Being on a boat would surely be even worse.

 

“I am sorry,” he whispered, his hand now the only thing she could feel outside the cushioned box. Without a word, she let go of even that. He was right. She was a governor’s wife now, Lady Moravid, and it was time for her to start acting the part.

 

* * *

 

_ Omashu - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

The day after she and Zuko attended the wedding, Katara gave Aang the day off from waterbending lessons, saying she had things to discuss with her father before his band of warriors left Omashu to return to the South Pole. Aang thought at first that she meant he was going to train with Pakku or Chief Huu instead, but she just smiled and told him to have some fun in his free time.

 

Well, Aang didn’t have to be told twice. Heading to one of the neighborhoods he had frequented during the new year’s celebrations, he found a group of kids playing earthball. It was a rougher game than airball, but it didn’t actually involve bending, which made it more inclusive. Some of the kids recognized him and were happy to have him join in.

 

When the game broke up a while later, Aang was approached by one of the girls who had been on the opposing team. She was the daughter of a baker, and Aang had met her at her father’s pastry stand during the new year’s festivals. She had wide brown eyes and dark curly hair that she wore in pigtails, which she tossed confidently over her shoulders as she came up to him.

 

“Hey! Aang, right?” she greeted him eagerly.

 

“That’s me!” Aang replied. “What can I do for you?”

 

The girl faltered just slightly. “I’m not sure if you remember me,” she said. “I’m…”

 

“Nadeera, of course I remember!” Aang cut her off. “Your dad makes the best custard tarts in the whole city!”

 

Nadeera smiled proudly. “You bet he does,” she boasted. “So, I told my brother what you said about how you and King Bumi used to ride the mail chutes, and he said that story sounded bogus.”

 

“Oh no, we definitely did it,” Aang insisted. He stood up a little straighter and tapped his own chest. “You’re looking at a veteran mail chute rider.”

 

“Well, I was wondering,” Nadeera said, flicking one pigtail back in front of her shoulder and bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Could you show me?”

 

“Alright, come on!” Aang agreed. He grabbed the girl’s hand and ran up the street, towards the top of the nearest ramp in the mail delivery system. He had actually been dying to do this again ever since they’d settled in to Omashu, but the thought of mail surfing alone wasn’t as much fun, and he didn’t think he would have been able to talk Zuko or Katara into it. Maybe Sokka, now that he thought of it, but if Nadeera was ready and willing then that was good enough for him.

 

They reached the mail station at the top of the ramp, and Aang peeked in to find it empty, the earthbenders who worked it apparently on a midday break. “Perfect,” he said to himself. He looked back at Nadeera, who was sporting an excited grin, and realized he was still holding her hand. Hastily he let go, and cleared his throat. “Let’s see if we can find an empty cart.”

 

They checked on opposite sides of the small storeroom. “Here’s one!” Nadeera announced, and wheeled it over to the archway opening onto the ramp.

 

“Great, climb inside,” Aang instructed her. She did, and he took up a position behind the cart. “Sit towards the front. I’m going to hop in the back once we’re moving.” She shuffled forward, and Aang grinned in anticipation. “Alright, ready?”

 

“Ready!” Nadeera confirmed, sounding just as excited.

 

The ramp they’d chosen wasn’t the tallest in the city, but Aang pushed them off with a burst of airbending before vaulting into the cart behind Nadeera, and they picked up speed fast enough. Wind whipping in their faces, they both laughed and whooped as the cart rattled down the steep incline and sharp banks of the ramp, until it reached the next mail station at the bottom and slammed to a halt, and both of them tumbled out of the cart onto the floor.

 

Their laughter came to an end as they took in the stern face of General Kwon standing over them. “I’ve been looking for you, Avatar Aang,” the General said as he and Nadeera got to their feet. “I have something important to discuss with you and your guardians.”

 

“Okay,” Aang said, giving Nadeera an apologetic look. Her eyes had gone wide at the sight of the General, and her lips were pressed together nervously. “I guess I’ll see you around?” Aang ventured.

 

“Oh, yeah, see you,” Nadeera replied. “I’ll just be getting home then. Sir.” She gave a hasty little bow to the General and hurried out of the mail station. Aang was sorry to see her go.

 

General Kwon led Aang higher up into the city, towards the building where he’d set up his new offices - not in the palace, which Aang guessed was a deliberate statement that he still answered to the would-be Earth King Gaozu, and not Goren, the King of Omashu. This building had served some municipal function under the Fire Nation occupation, but the large flame emblem over the door had been quickly replaced with the Earth Kingdom’s coin-shaped emblem instead.

 

“It is good to see you’ve made friends here,” the General commented as they headed down the busy corridor towards his private office.

 

Aang shrugged. “I make friends everywhere I go,” he said. At least, that had always been the case before the war, and still was anywhere he went that people weren’t trying to capture him.

 

“Yes, I have heard that,” the General replied, pushing open the door to his office and ushering Aang inside. Zuko and Katara were both waiting there, and looked around to see him enter. “I found your wayward airbender hurtling down one of the mail chutes,” the General informed them, though he sounded more amused than stern now.

 

Zuko shook his head, though Aang could see that he was smiling, and Katara gave him an unimpressed look. “Reliving Bumi’s greatest hits, huh?” she said.

 

“What can I say?” Aang replied, taking a seat in the empty chair on the other side of Katara. “You knew him as a king, I knew him as a mad genius.”

 

“Undoubtedly, he was both,” General Kwon said, taking his own seat on the other side of his desk. “But that’s not what we need to discuss at the moment. What concerns us now is Avatar Aang’s future training.” Aang’s shoulders slumped a little. He wished the General wouldn’t address him as the Avatar all the time. But General Kwon was looking at Katara now. “Do you share King Goren’s opinion that he is ready to begin earthbending?”

 

Katara exchanged a brief glance with Zuko, and Aang got the impression the two of them had already discussed this. “I do,” Katara answered. She looked at Aang with an encouraging smile. “You really have made very good progress with waterbending.”

 

“Thanks,” Aang said, his heart skipping a beat. If she was done teaching him, then…

 

“Very well,” General Kwon said, folding his hands on the desk. “Let me make it perfectly clear to you that I do not think it would be advisable to take King Goren up on his offer to teach the Avatar to earthbend.” Great, now he wasn’t even Aang anymore, just the Avatar. 

 

“So who should it be?” Aang asked irritably, even though he didn’t disagree with Kwon’s assessment. “One of your people?”

 

“No,” the General said, looking back at him. “Having one of my men as your instructor would be seen as throwing your weight behind Gaozu, as much as learning from Goren would be seen as throwing your weight behind him. It would be best if you could find someone neutral.”

 

“Respectfully,” Zuko spoke up, “it will be hard to find a highly skilled earthbender who has not taken a side already. The only ones who have entirely stayed out of the war in the last ten years are benders of modest ability, not cut out for the job.”

 

“True,” Kwon agreed. “But I think it’s worth trying, even if we have to be...unconventional. Perhaps more than one teacher.” He pressed his palms flat together. “Now is not the time to provoke internal strife, when we need to finish clearing the last of the Fire Nation troops from the southern provinces.” He looked from Zuko to Katara to Aang and back again. “I wonder, will finding him a firebending teacher be so difficult, when the time comes.”

 

Aang frowned. He hadn’t even thought that far ahead. Zuko was a great firebender, obviously, but if he and Katara were going home…

 

But Zuko sighed. “You’re asking if I’ll do it,” he said. “Of course I will.”

 

“Really?” Aang asked, pleasantly surprised. “That’s great! Will you teach me how to do that thing with the...” He mimed punching his fists in rapid succession, a move he’s seen Zuko use to generate a barrage of fireballs.

 

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves,” Katara cautioned. “Earthbending has to come first.”

 

“Indeed,” Kwon agreed. “And we have other immediate concerns as well. Katara, it is my impression that you were planning to return to the South Pole with your father.”

 

This was the first Aang had heard of that plan. So Katara was leaving him after all. He supposed that was her right, to go back to her son. And at least Zuko was staying. Or was he planning to go home and come back?

 

“I...hadn’t decided on that yet,” Katara replied, glancing at Aang. Well, that explained why she hadn’t told him about it, at least.

 

“Then I’m afraid what I’m about to tell you might make up your mind for you,” General Kwon said, opening a drawer in his desk and removing a scroll. Though the seal on it had been broken, Aang could see it was a familiar flower, five petals, with the characters for “justice” on either side. The wax was red, rather than Earth Kingdom green.

 

“Lord Moravid wrote to you?” Aang asked.

 

“Officially, he wrote to my sister, Poppy Bei Fong,” the General explained, unrolling the scroll so they could see the message. “Since Lady Moravid is my niece, he is simply asking his mother-in-law to send certain servants whom his wife has requested to join their household.” Kwon tapped the last paragraph of the letter. “But notice how he mentions that these servants are actually  _ my _ retainers, on loan to my sister?”

 

“Let me guess,” Zuko said, studying the parchment carefully. “You haven’t actually loaned any of your servants to your sister.”

 

“Precisely,” Kwon said. “Perhaps you can see where this is going.”

 

“The message is a code,” Katara said. “He knew your sister would show the letter to you when she couldn’t figure out who he was talking about.”

 

“Wait a minute,” Aang said, trying to keep up. Just when he thought he’d gotten his mind around the Goren versus Gaozu situation, the General sprang this on him. “If Lady Moravid is your niece, why couldn’t she just write to you?”

 

“Because Lady Moravid has had no contact with her disreputable uncle since her husband took the governor’s seat,” Kwon replied with a wry grin. “Suffice to say, this is a connection that has not worked out as I had hoped. But now that her husband is reaching out to us, that may be changing.”

 

“He’s asking you to send a liason,” Zuko said, still studying the letter, eyes darting from word to word out of sequence, probably working out the code for himself. He looked up sharply, catching the General’s eye. “He’s asking for us, isn’t he?”

 

“‘A young couple from the colonies of mixed heritage, and their nephew, a charming if somewhat flighty youth,’” Kwon read aloud from the letter. “Yes, I do believe that’s the three of you.”

 

“He’s asking for all three of us, specifically,” Katara said softly.

 

“Correct,” Kwon agreed, setting down the letter. “He doesn’t give any indication, naturally, but my theory is that one or more of the partisans you aided in Gaipan must have escaped to report to him, so he feels he can trust you at least.”

 

“And it has to be all of us?” Zuko asked. He moved so subtly, Aang almost didn’t see how he took hold of Katara’s hand. “It can’t just be me and Aang?”

 

Aang had pulled the letter towards himself and read it over again. “Listen to what he says here,” he said, coming to the penultimate paragraph. “‘If it is not possible for all three to come, of course we do not want to break up the family.’” Well, that was ironic, Aang thought, seeing how Katara was frowning at a nondescript spot on the surface of the General’s desk.

 

“We could try sending just the two of you,” Kwon said sympathetically. “But given how Lord Moravid has been skittish about reaching out to us in the past, I would prefer if we could follow his instructions as closely as possible. He would potentially be a pivotal ally.” He took the letter back from Aang, and rolled it up again. “It is, of course, your choice, Katara.”

 

Aang didn’t think that was a very fair choice, but there hadn’t been many of those to go around lately. Katara did not protest, but she did lift her eyes from the desk to share a meaningful look with Zuko. Aang looked away from them, almost embarrassed to see the wordless exchange.

 

“Well,” Katara said at last. “It looks like we’re going back to the colonies.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Toph has officially entered the story. How many of you guessed where she was?
> 
> The next chapter, The Governor of Penkou Province, will feature yet another long-awaited character in the present day, while things will be getting complicated for Zuko and Katara in the past. Look for it on Friday, November 9th.


	21. The Governor of Penkou Province

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zuko, Katara, and Aang journey back into the Fire Nation colonies following Lord Moravid's curious summons. In the past, the refugee camp comes under attack.

**Book II: Earth**

 

**Chapter 3: The Governor of Penkou Province**

 

_Fire Nation Colonies - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet_

 

The capital city of Penkou Province was located at the mouth of the river from which both the city and the province took their names. It would have been a short journey there from Omashu if they could have taken Appa, but their cover story that they were servants being sent to join the governor’s household meant that the bison had to stay behind. Even bringing Momo would attract too much attention, since the winged lemur was a rare if not all but extinct species. Aang had been disappointed to hear that, but Sokka had assured him that he would look after both Appa and Momo while he was gone, which made him feel a little better about it.

 

They had to dress the part as well. Zuko had exchanged his Water Tribe clothing for a long, dark green tunic, and Katara wore a dress made of similar material. For Aang, they had found a lighter green shirt with long sleeves and a high collar, along with fingerless gloves and a hat to hide his tattoos. General Kwon had suggested that he should let his hair grow out as well, but while Aang saw the sensibility of his advice, he was reluctant to follow it. While they were in Omashu, he had just started to get back into the habits of meditation and prayer he had once been used to, and he felt bad about giving up other aspects of the Air Nomad life now.

 

So as they journeyed on foot to Penkou City, Aang asked Zuko to wake him at dawn each day so they could meditate together, and keeping his head clean-shaven remained part of his morning routine. Neither Zuko nor Katara commented on it.

 

Crossing the mountains and bypassing the military fortifications to get into the territory still controlled by the Fire Nation was the most difficult part of their journey, but once they were actually in the colonies they could travel openly. Zuko carried with him Lord Moravid’s letter, which effectively acted as their passport the one time they were stopped on the road. The bored-looking soldiers took one look at the seal, skimmed the text, and waved them on.

 

“Doesn’t Prince Zuko have a scar like that guy?” Aang heard one of the soldiers ask as they walked away. Zuko, to his credit, did not visibly react, though he did place a hand on Aang’s shoulder, which he often did when he thought they were in a tense situation.

 

“Nah,” the other soldier replied confidently, his voice already fading into the distance as they got farther away. “His scar is on the other side.”

 

Zuko still didn’t react, but it sounded like Katara had to suppress a nervous laugh. And to Aang’s surprise, that was the closest they came to being recognized. Wanted posters for the Avatar had started appearing in most of the towns they passed through, but while they mentioned he might be travelling with a man and woman, there were no specific warrants for Zuko or Katara. And while Aang’s image did appear on the posters, it seemed that in his Earth Kingdom clothing and with their solid cover story, people only saw what they expected to see - a pageboy, no one of consequence.

 

But if they had been lulled into any sense of security by the time they reached Penkou City after a week of traveling, they were quickly disabused of that notion by what they found there. Approaching the dark tower that loomed over the western end of the city was a stately airship with a golden prow, the Fire Nation emblem prominently displayed in black on its broad red side. Aang knew right away this was no ordinary warship, and Zuko soon confirmed his suspicions.

 

“That’s the Fire Lord’s ship,” he said in a low voice. Both Zuko and Katara were pressing close to Aang now, drawing him off to the side of the road that approached the southern city gate. The other travelers going to and from the city paid them no attention.

 

“Do you think it’s a trap?” Katara asked, her eyes darting around for any sign of danger. “Did he mean to bring us here at the same time as her?”

 

“That can’t be!” Aang insisted. Admittedly, if Azula was on that airship, that did sound pretty bad, but he knew Lord Moravid had not intentionally lured them into danger. “Smellerbee said we could trust him. And remember my vision?”

 

“No offense, but we barely know Smellerbee,” Katara argued, her hands on her hips. “And we still have no idea who the woman in your vision was at all.”

 

“So we should just abandon the mission at the first sign of trouble?” Aang challenged her, gesturing in frustration towards the distant airship. “Do we go back and tell the General we gave up because we were too scared?”

 

“You don’t understand,” Zuko said calmly, his hand on Aang’s shoulder once again. “Azula being here is not a little wrinkle in the plan. If she finds us, we’re all dead. Or worse.”

 

“ _If_ she finds us,” Aang insisted. He doubted the Fire Lord would be personally inspecting every peasant who came in and out of the city. “But if we turn back, we give up one of the greatest potential allies for our side.”

 

Zuko sighed, letting his hand fall, and looked to Katara, considering. “Maybe one of us should go ahead while the others wait outside the city.”

 

Katara shook her head. “You know the governor said it had to be all three of us,” she reminded Zuko. “Either we all go ahead, or we all leave.”

 

“Well, I say we go ahead,” Aang said, not backing down. “Our disguises have worked so far.”

 

Katara looked at Aang for a moment, then reached out and straightened the collar of his shirt so it stood flat against the back of his neck, but he batted her hands away before she could adjust his hat as well. He knew it was a nervous gesture, and his tattoos were already well hidden.

 

“Alright,” she finally relented. “We’ll try it. But the first sign of Fire Nation soldiers, we all go the other direction, got it?”

 

“Yes, Aunt Kya,” Aang replied with a grin, and dutifully followed as she led the way into the city, Zuko trailing protectively behind him.

 

They did end up taking a more circuitous route to Lord Moravid’s house, avoiding the center of the city and twice taking unplanned turns to avoid crossing paths with patrolling soldiers. But the city didn’t seem to be on particularly high alert - from what they overheard in the streets, it sounded like the Fire Lord’s visit was a surprise, and there was speculation as to whether she would even be making a public appearance.

 

In some ways, Penkou City was a lot like Gaoling, only bigger. Most of the buildings were of the same style, though the green roofs were not so bright, where they hadn’t been painted over in a neutral black or off-white. There was newer construction here and there that obviously reflected a more Fire Nation style of architecture, with steeper roofs and spires instead of the Earth Kingdom’s more gently pitched gables. The airship station tower was only the most obvious example. As in most Earth Kingdom cities, the streets were nearly all straight lines rather than curved or meandering, but banners hung throughout displayed a black flame over the golden circle of the Earth Kingdom emblem, surprisingly set on a field of green rather than red.

 

“That’s the older insignia for the colonies,” Zuko explained, seeing how Aang eyed one such banner as they passed. “It’s used for the provinces that are considered fully integrated into the empire, which can be governed by civilians rather than directly by the military.”

 

“Like Governor Moravid,” Aang said. And indeed, when they reached the governor’s house, the same banners were hung on either side of the main gate. Aang recalled that while Smellerbee had assured them the Moravids were a respected Earth Kingdom lineage, the current holder of the title also had a Fire Nation mother. For the first time, he questioned his conviction, just a little. But they had come this far.

 

Zuko presented the letter again to the guards at the gate, who wore red and brown uniforms similar to those that had been supplied to Smellerbee’s Freedom Fighters. The guards directed them to the servants’ entrance at the side of the large house, which Aang noted with approval still had its green roofing tiles. Each nation had always favored its own colors, but it was strange how much more significance these things seemed to take on in a time of war.

 

Entering the servants’ passage, they found the household staff in a state of frenzy. When they finally located the majordomo, showed the letter once again, and explained that they were the servants Lord Moravid had requested, the majordomo sighed in annoyance.

 

“Of course you would turn up today,” the old man complained, rolling up the letter and tucking it into a pocket of his robes. “His lordship has been called away unexpectedly by the Fire Lord’s arrival, and we don’t know when he’ll be back. He was supposed to host a dinner tonight and now the whole thing’s up in the air.” He glanced over the three of them again, running a hand over his white mustache and beard thoughtfully. “Well, my understanding is his lordship wanted you for her ladyship’s service, and since he’s not here, I guess I’ll send you off to her.”

 

Katara and Zuko exchanged a nervous glance as the majordomo summoned another servant to bring them to Lady Moravid. Aang was puzzled by their concern at first, until he remembered that their cover story claimed they were previously employed on the Bei Fong estate, and that Lady Moravid was the Bei Fongs’ daughter. From what Smellerbee had said, the governor’s reclusive wife had nothing to do with her husband’s efforts to help the rebels, and if she recognized their story as a fraud, it could put their entire mission in jeopardy.

 

But Aang also realized, and Zuko and Katara must have as well, that there was no way out at this point, so they dutifully followed the maid assigned to escort them through the servants’ corridors to Lady Moravid’s rooms.

 

The first of these rooms that they were brought to was a small sitting room. It had large windows, but they were curtained, leaving the room dimly lit. The maid instructed them to wait there while she informed her mistress of their arrival, then disappeared through an ornate double door that presumably led to more private rooms.

 

“How long ago did Smellerbee say Lord Moravid married?” Zuko hastily whispered when they were alone.

 

“I think about a year?” Katara replied. She looked to Aang, but he shrugged, studying the pattern of red flowers woven around the edge of the cream colored carpet. They were the same flower, with five petals, that was in Lord Moravid’s seal, the flower that the woman in his swamp vision had given him.

 

“Okay, then General Kwon sent us to his sister eight months ago,” Zuko said, improvising on their cover story.

 

Aang looked up, noticing the same flower pattern repeated in the painted woodwork moulding, with the stems and leaves gilded. “How would the governor know to request us specifically if he never met us?” he asked.

 

“I don’t know,” Zuko said shortly. “We’re servants, it’s not our place to know things like that.”

 

Before they could discuss the matter any further, the door opened again, and the maid reappeared, with her mistress behind her. Zuko and Katara bowed politely as Lady Moravid entered the room, but Aang let out a gasp, completely forgetting all pretense. Katara nudged him, and Aang quickly bowed as well, but his heart was pounding with excitement.

 

Lady Moravid was a petite woman with dark hair and a round face. Her expression was haughty, and her dress was a pale lavender rather than green, but she was unmistakably the same woman who had appeared to him in the swamp. Whatever she had been referring to when she had told him “not yet”, it seemed the time for it had finally come.

 

* * *

 

_Eastern Earth Kingdom - Eight Years Earlier_

 

Summer was nearly over, and still the drought continued. There had been one day of sudden rain to get everyone’s hopes up, but the squall had lasted no more than ten minutes. It wasn’t nearly enough to replenish the depleted wells and cisterns in the refugee camp, and still the porters going to and from Chameleon Bay could barely keep up with their daily water needs.

 

Zuko wondered about his little valley in the wilderness - had the bandits who had chased him out made it their permanent hideout, or had they moved on by now? Was the stream completely dried up? But it was pointless speculation. When he was finally able to leave the camp, he didn’t think he would go back there. Probably he would try heading further south.

 

Katara was still the only person he saw consistently. He had offered to do some chores around the camp, hating to spend his days so idle, but Katara had insisted there wasn’t much work he could do until his shoulder healed. Zuko suspected this was only partly true, and that really she didn’t trust him enough to let him roam about the camp and mingle with the other refugees.

 

She certainly kept up her unsubtle interrogation every time she came to work on his shoulder. She would ask him about where he was from, what kinds of work he had done in the past, how he had gotten here - and, of course, made regular inquiries about his name. Zuko wasn’t sure why he didn’t just give her a pseudonym - insisting on remaining anonymous was obviously suspicious behavior - but even though he would occasionally give vague, harmless responses to her other questions, that one he refused to answer at all.

 

Zuko’s birthday was two weeks before the autumnal equinox, and it was somehow on that very day that Katara chose to ask him how old he was.

 

“I’m nineteen today, actually,” he replied. Nineteen years old, and it had been five years, six months, and eight days since he had left home.

 

Katara glanced up briefly from the glowing water she had pressed to his wound, her eyebrows raised. “Well, happy birthday?” she offered. Zuko didn’t respond.

 

“That’s about how old I thought you were,” Katara went on, adjusting the position of her hand a little. The cool, tingling sensation of the healing water seeped further below his skin. “You’re the same age as my brother.” Still focused on her healing, she shrugged, a gesture that looked a little self-conscious. “I’ll be seventeen this winter.”

 

“Hopefully it will rain before then,” Zuko muttered.

 

Katara gave a tight little smile, almost a grimace. He knew there really wasn’t anything amusing about it. With the drought, this year’s harvest was going to be poor, and getting grain from elsewhere didn’t seem likely, since so much of the Earth Kingdom’s best farmland was now charred and abandoned. They would soon be facing food shortages even if water scarcity was no longer an issue. Just one more reason for him to try his luck far away from here, as soon as he could.

 

Katara replaced his bandages once more, and gave him the usual admonishment to go easy on his shoulder. Zuko rolled his eyes. “I haven’t done anything to reopen the wound yet, have I?” he pointed out. He wasn’t that stupid.

 

“Well, no,” Katara conceded. “So let’s keep it that way.”

 

The sharp blaring of a horn cut off any further protest he might have made. “Oh no,” Katara said under her breath, hurrying out of the tent. Zuko didn’t have to have heard this particular horn before to recognize it as an alarm. Hastily pulling his shirt back on, he followed her.

 

Soldiers and refugees alike were running in all directions. Apparently the attackers had already breached the main gate of the camp. Zuko heard someone shout that they were going after the food stores - the only thing of value they had here.

 

“Help get people inside!” Katara shouted to him over her shoulder, water already in her hands as she chased after the bandits. Knowing he was unarmed and couldn’t bend, Zuko realized that was the best way for him to help, and quickly did as she had said. There were few permanent buildings in the camp - the infirmary, the officers’ quarters, the kitchens and mess hall - but Zuko tried to round up as many people into the relative safety they provided as he could. He’d never realized before how many children were in the camp, and how many seemed to have no parents looking out for them…

 

He was leading a pair of boys by the hand towards the mess hall when one of the bandits came round a corner with a large sack of rice over his shoulder and collided with him. Zuko let go of the boys’ hands, shouting for them to keep running, as the bandit grabbed the front of his shirt. “You,” he growled in recognition. It was one of the thugs who had attacked him in his valley not so long ago, the bald one with the bad teeth. He shoved Zuko away, and he fell onto an empty tent which collapsed around him.

 

The bandit had dropped his sack of rice and hefted his hammer with both hands. Zuko tried to roll out of the way, but the blow still caught him on the shoulder - the same shoulder Katara had just warned him to go easy on. He let out an involuntary cry of pain as he felt the tender flesh tear once again.

 

Stepping on Zuko’s right wrist to still his attempts to squirm away, the thug raised his hammer again. Zuko kicked his legs, but they were tangled in the canvas of the collapsed tent. Pain radiated from his shoulder down his left arm, and his right was pinned under his attacker’s boot. He had no choice. He called on his breath of fire.

 

His attacker screamed as the flames engulfed him, stumbling away and freeing Zuko to scramble out of the wreckage of the tent. The boys were nowhere to be seen, hopefully having gotten to safety. The other bandits were retreating now, seemingly having gotten what they had come for. Most of the soldiers pursued them.

 

Two did not. Zuko recognized them as Bo and Shuren, two of the men who had found him and whose tent he had shared when he first came to the camp. They bent the earth into sharp spikes, pointed at Zuko’s throat. Still on his knees, Zuko raised his left arm in surrender. It hurt too much to move his right.

 

“Stop it!” a voice cried out. It was Katara. She was running towards the soldiers, but there was no water in her hands now.

 

“He’s a firebender!” Shuren shouted back at her. Zuko closed his eyes, focusing on steadying his breathing. He knew what was coming next, and he didn’t think he could fight his way out of it now. He hoped his uncle wouldn’t be too disappointed with him.

 

“The only person he’s hurt is one of the thugs who attacked us!” Katara argued. Why was she still defending him? Maybe she was afraid he would say something, give away that she had been keeping his secret.

 

“It doesn’t matter,” Bo said darkly. “He’s the enemy. He can’t be trusted.”

 

“Then let the captain decide what to do with him,” Katara insisted.

 

Zuko heard the earth shift again, but the stone didn’t touch him. He opened his eyes just as Bo and Shuren grabbed him roughly by the arms and hauled him to his feet, apparently having listened to Katara. He hissed in pain as they moved him, but Katara didn’t admonish them to be careful of his shoulder.

 

* * *

 

_Penkou City, Fire Nation Colonies - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet_

 

The Fire Lord’s airship reached Penkou City a little before midday, and Azula disembarked at the tower that bore her name. Built just three years ago for the specific purpose of making the colonial city more accessible from the Fire Nation, the Fire Lord Azula Airship Station was one of many such minor municipal structures throughout the empire named in her honor - though of course, there were far more named for the Phoenix King himself. Azula could not lay claim to an entire city as her namesake, but then, since the rebels had retaken and renamed Omashu once again, neither could Ozai, anymore.

 

But she wasn’t here to dispute naming rights or even to conquer cities. She was here on a far more important mission - the hunt for the Avatar. Whatever her father’s intent had been in giving her the quest, it was no longer a fool’s errand, but was now a chance for her to succeed where others had failed. And she would succeed, of that she was certain.

 

Azula had little interest in the provincial capital itself, and wouldn’t bother to venture beyond the tower for now. She only wanted to speak to the governor, and there were rooms in the airship station she could appropriate for that purpose. She would not go to the city hall or Lord Moravid’s estate seeking an audience. He would come to her.

 

The stationmaster’s office was neither large nor grand, but it would do. The nervous stationmaster hastily cleared out of her way, and forgoing the dark leather chair, Azula seated herself on top of his desk. Let it never be said that she needed a golden throne or a wall of fire to intimidate people into doing what she wanted. Her talents were many and varied, and being terrifying all on her own was certainly one of them.

 

The governor answered her summons promptly, kneeling before her awkwardly on the cheap carpet. He was a young man to hold such an important post, not much older than Azula herself. He came from noble Fire Nation blood on his mother’s side, and Azula thought that was about all there was to recommend him. Of average height and a medium-brown coloring, his overall appearance was so unremarkable that his robes of state almost looked out of place on him. They were, at least, a respectable red.

 

Azula let the heavy silence stretch on, the young Lord Moravid on the floor unable to speak until spoken to. She was glad to be dealing with him, rather than his predecessor. She had never trusted the late Lord Moravid, the current governor’s father, no matter how many oaths of loyalty he took. He was from the Earth Kingdom’s old guard and should have been removed from power, though the Phoenix King had ignored her suggestions that he do so. The young man patiently kneeling before her now seemed far more bidable, if inept, likely as not to fail in his duty but never to betray his superiors.

 

“Governor Moravid,” she finally greeted him, without bidding him to stand. “I have some questions about how you have been administering this province lately.”

 

“I am at your majesty’s disposal,” Moravid responded evenly, showing no outward sign of distress. He either felt supremely secure in his position, or else he was an idiot. In fact, he might have to be the latter in order to be the former.

 

“There was an incident two months ago in the town of Gaipan,” Azula said, leaning forward so one arm rested on her crossed knees. “What happened?”

 

Still kneeling, the governor could not look at her without craning his neck. He chose to speak to the sole of her boot instead, as she’d intended him to do. “That town had been plagued by fractious insurrection for years,” he explained. Azula knew this, of course. She had done her homework before she came here, read reports on Gaipan’s so-called Freedom Fighters dating back well into the governorship of the previous Lord Moravid. But she was curious to see how this fresh-faced lackey defended his failure.

 

“In an effort to quell the fighting,” Moravid went on, “I gave official support to the faction whose leader had shown herself willing to work with us, to remove her more radical opposition.”

 

“But she turned on you,” Azula prompted.

 

“I had promised the town would be spared military assault if they cooperated, but Zhao did not heed my orders,” Moravid said, his haste to cast the blame elsewhere evident. “It seems his attack united both factions against him.”

 

Azula frowned at the mention of her former admiral. “Yes, Zhao did have a way of being overzealous. I suppose that is not your fault.” She uncrossed her legs, her foot swinging close enough to Moravid’s face to get him to flinch, and leaned forward. “But tell me, Governor. What do you know of the Avatar’s role in the incident?”

 

The governor’s eyes fell back to the floor. “Only that it was rumored, your majesty.”

 

“You didn’t get confirmation from your erstwhile rebel leader?” Azula asked sharply. “It was my understanding she was arrested after the resistance was crushed.” Surely he wasn’t so incompetent he hadn’t thought to have her interrogated.

 

“She, ah, escaped shortly after,” the governor explained. Finally he had the good sense to look nervous.

 

“I see,” Azula said, sitting up straight again. She was aware of the problem of the overly porous prisons in and around the capital of this province - some sort of vigilante they were calling the Bandit had made a habit of liberating political prisoners. But while it did suit her purposes for the governor to be reminded of this failure now, it was not actually the reason she had come here. “That is...unfortunate,” Azula remarked, the last word laden with enough displeasure to make the governor wince. “So you know nothing of the Avatar’s movements after that?”

 

“I had heard he took part in the siege of New Ozai,” Moravid said tentatively. He knew it was not the answer she was looking for. “But I am sure your majesty is aware of that. Would he not still be with the rebels there?”

 

“That is the very thing I wish to determine, Governor,” Azula said sternly. “We know the Avatar was sighted several times the colonies prior to the attack on New Ozai, and that one of his traveling companions impersonated a royal official on at least one occasion. It is possible they could try such tricks again.” Truthfully, she doubted it. The Avatar’s journey through the colonies had most likely been a mission to recruit the Northern Water Tribe forces that had unexpectedly join the siege. He would have little reason to come back now. But it couldn’t hurt to press the governor a little to make sure. It would ensure his vigilance against enemies of the Fire Empire in the future, if nothing else.

 

“I have no reason to suspect anything of the kind, your majesty,” Moravid replied. It was almost a plea. He clearly couldn’t wait for this audience to be over.

 

Azula smiled, satisfied. “You will notify me immediately if you ever do,” she commanded. “You are dismissed.” She waved her hand, shooing him away. She had never given him permission to stand, and so he was forced to shuffle out of the station master’s office still awkwardly hunched over.

 

She returned to her airship not long after, gave her orders to the captain, and went to the observation deck as the ship pulled away from the city, heading back towards the coast where she would rejoin her naval ship. Penkou City really was a dreary provincial town, she thought disdainfully, looking down on the ugly, mismatched buildings. Earth Kingdom cities had none of the grandeur of the Fire Nation’s capital. They could only do so much to civilize these places. If only the Ba Sing Se solution were feasible more than once every hundred years.

 

But that was also not the reason she had come to the colonies. She had an Avatar to catch, and she had a feeling she knew exactly where he was.

 

* * *

 

_Eastern Earth Kingdom - Eight Years Earlier_

 

The captain in charge of the refugee camp was not pleased when he heard what Bo and Shuren had to say about the unnamed stranger they had been harboring. On top of the losses from the attack on the camp, now he had to deal with a firebender in their midst. But, Katara hoped, he might be more willing to see reason than his soldiers were.

 

Unceremoniously penned in a stone holding cell made with earthbending, the boy had clammed up, refusing to respond to any of the captain’s attempts to interrogate him. Suspecting he was too dazed with pain, Katara had offered to heal him, but the captain had refused to allow it. Finally, she had drawn the captain aside and confessed to knowing he was a firebender, hoping the captain would take her word for it that he was not a threat.

 

“He told you this?” the captain asked suspiciously. Two soldiers ran past them, carrying a wounded comrade on a stretcher towards the infirmary. Nivi could probably use her help.

 

“No,” Katara admitted. “I found out. But he told me he wasn’t working for the Phoenix King, and I believed him.”

 

The captain was unimpressed. “That’s just what a spy would say,” he pointed out.

 

“Who would send a spy to infiltrate a refugee camp?” Katara asked, growing frustrated. “And those children who had the fever, and miraculously got better? _He_ was the one who did that. How would that advance the Phoenix King’s agenda?”

 

The captain sighed, rubbing his temples. “Even if that’s true,” he said, in a tone that implied it wasn’t, “he may be an enemy agent who wound up here by mistake. He’s still dangerous, Katara.”

 

“He’s been here for weeks,” Katara insisted, trying to keep her voice low lest their argument attract too much attention. But everyone around them was busy dealing with the aftermath of the attack. “He hasn’t done anything to hurt anyone in that whole time.”

 

“That may be,” the captain conceded, folding his arms. “But too many people saw him bend. The refugees here have suffered too much at the hands of the Fire Nation to trust a firebender among them. It will cause unrest, which we can’t afford. He has to leave.”

 

Katara scowled at his pronouncement. It was better than what Bo and Shuren had wanted to do to him, but not by much. She hadn’t had a chance to examine his shoulder thoroughly, but even a cursory glance was enough to tell her that his recovery had been severely set back. And she knew he was prone to infection. “If you send him away in that condition,” she warned, “that’s practically a death sentence.”

 

The captain looked a little sympathetic at that, but Katara got the impression he pitied her more than the firebender, and his pity rankled. “You may clean and bandage the wound,” he allowed. “Then he goes. That’s final.”

 

He barked an order at Shuren, still standing guard inside the cell, to bring her the supplies she would need, then he turned to leave them, undoubtedly to see to other pressing matters. He paused, giving Katara one last glance over his shoulder. “In the future,” he said pointedly, “save your compassion for those that deserve it.”

 

Katara marched back inside the stone cell to keep watch over its prisoner while Shuren went to get the bandages. The boy was slumped against the rough wall, all the muscles in his face drawn tight with pain, but his good eye was wide open. He was breathing heavily.

 

He didn’t say a word as she stared at him, and wondered why the spirits seemed to have conspired to make this firebender her problem.

 

* * *

 

_Penkou City, Fire Nation Colonies - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet_

 

Lady Moravid, as a general rule, did not receive visitors, and seldom made public appearances. Her private rooms were off limits to the servants outside of her personal staff, a small group of attendants brought from her father’s estate in Gaoling. Even Lord Moravid’s visits to his wife’s apartment, while regular, were brief. The excuse given for the reclusiveness of the governor’s wife, to the point of negligence towards her duties, was her fragile health that left her easily exhausted. And when she did show her face at state functions, the guests would find her so quiet and timid that this was easily believed, and so uninteresting that she was not greatly missed on other occasions. Like a wilted flower, she had once overheard someone describe her.

 

It was not how Toph had hope her married life would be, but at least this time the façade was one of her own construction. She knew it frustrated Sanjay, but he hardly had grounds to protest that _she_ had failed to live up to _his_ expectations. Meanwhile, her mother wrote to her frequently, and if Poppy Bei Fong had heard that her daughter was not quite the ideal society wife, she seemed more concerned by the fact that she had not yet given her a grandchild.

 

But regardless of what anyone else thought or knew, Toph had her own concerns. Years of practice at slipping away unnoticed for adventures in the middle of the night were not being put to waste after all. It was a step backwards, in many ways, but at least she was on familiar ground in that respect.

 

When her maid gently knocked on the door of her bedroom that afternoon, Toph had actually been resting, rather than using that as a pretense. Even she needed her rest sometimes, though true sleep was often hard for her to come by. So her tired annoyance at the interruption was not feigned, this time.

 

“Sorry to disturb you, ma’am,” Ling said with a bow. Most of the servants didn’t bother to bow to her when her husband wasn’t around, assuming she wouldn’t know the difference. But Ling, who had come with her from Gaoling, always bowed. “Three new servants arrived today, sent by your mother, and since his lordship is not here…”

 

“Right, of course,” Toph cut the girl off. She knew very well where her husband had gone and whom he was meeting with. He had come to tell her himself before he left, another in a year’s worth of stilted conversations that made it abundantly clear where his loyalties lay. She got up from the bed, pulled the outer layer of her dress back on, and reached for her fan. “Who are they?”

 

“I’m not sure,” Ling replied. “I don’t recognize them.”

 

Toph frowned. She hadn’t heard anything from her mother about sending servants to join their household, and if Ling didn’t recognize them, they must have been agricultural laborers on her parents’ land, or perhaps gardeners on the estate. An odd choice, either way. Flicking open her fan, Toph crossed the room and followed Ling to the sitting room, letting the maid open doors for her.

 

The sitting room had a tile floor, but the three people in question were standing on a carpet, which muffled their impressions in Toph’s seismic sense somewhat. She could tell they were a man, a woman, and a boy, but she couldn’t get a read on their heartbeats. The two adults bowed when she entered the room, but the boy had to be reminded by the woman to do so.

 

“Ling,” Toph said in her softest, most demure voice. “Have them come closer.” She fluttered her fan as the maid beckoned and the three strangers approached, finally stepping onto the bare section of the tile. Toph hid behind her fan and coughed delicately to hide her surprise - the two adults were definitely nervous about something, but the boy must have been downright terrified, judging by the frantic pace of his heart.

 

“You were employed by my mother?” she asked.

 

“We are your uncle’s retainers, ladyship,” the woman responded. Her accent was colonial, and convincing, but clearly affected to Toph’s ears. She was definitely hiding something - but not lying outright.

 

“Well,” Toph replied disdainfully. “My uncle’s disloyalty to the Phoenix King is quite the open secret. I don’t know if I want any of his servants around.”

 

That got a reaction out of all three of them. These were not good little colonials, of that much Toph was certain. The man recovered first, and his response revealed a perfect colonial accent that would even have fooled her, had her suspicions not already been aroused. “His lordship sent for us,” he said, bowing his head in deference at the mention of her husband. “We are only here in obedience to his wishes.” Like the woman, he was telling the truth, but with enough discomfort for Toph to suspect that it was not the whole truth.

 

That Sanjay had asked her mother to send them was also odd. Toph wondered if they weren’t meant to spy on her. She frowned at the thought.

 

But before she could question them any further, the door from the corridor opened, and Sanjay himself entered the room briskly. He was certainly agitated about something, though whether it was his recent meeting with the Fire Lord or the odd new arrivals, Toph of course couldn’t say. She didn’t flatter herself that she could guess what he was thinking anymore.

 

Ling bowed to the master of the house, and the three new servants hastily turned and did the same, but Sanjay did not cross the room to join them. “Ling,” he said curtly. “Show these three to my office. I’ll be there shortly.” The servants complied, leaving Toph alone with her husband.

 

Silence stretched between them. It was not often she spoke to him twice in one day anymore. “You’re stealing servants from my traitor uncle now?” Toph finally asked.

 

“They were sent to you by mistake,” Sanjay replied, folding his arms behind his back. “I’m sorry for the disturbance.”

 

“Not at all,” Toph said with an insipid wave of her fan. “Managing the help is supposed to be my job, but I guess I’ll just follow your lead.” A hint of the bitterness she had tried to keep in check crept into her tone. Across the room, her husband tensed.

 

“I had meant to spare you some of the effort,” he shot back. “I know how taxing your responsibilities can be on your delicate health.” There was sarcasm and accusation in his voice as well, which only further frustrated her. He was the one who had dragged her here, had put them in this position. If he was disappointed with her, it was his own fault.

 

But Toph was past spite now. “That was very thoughtful,” she said with a deferential nod.

 

Sanjay hesitated a moment before he spoke again. “I am always thinking of you,” he said softly, and damn him if he didn’t sound very convincing. But she couldn’t afford to trust him so easily anymore.

 

“Go see to your new servants,” Toph said, letting her voice sound frail and tired. “I’m going to lie down.” Then she retreated back to her bedroom, feeling Sanjay reluctantly take his leave as she shut the door behind her.

 

But she didn’t go back to bed. Tossing her fan aside in disgust, Toph flung open her wardrobe and reached for the dark clothes she knew were hidden at the back. Her suspicions about the odd new arrivals were far from allayed, but she had other things to focus on for the time being. One of the leaders of the Gaipan rebels had been freed, but the other was still being held somewhere else in the capital. The Bandit had her work cut out for her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: The Bandit
> 
> Look for it on Friday, November 23rd.


	22. The Bandit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aang, Zuko, and Katara attempt a covert rescue of Lord Moravid's sister, while the Bandit seeks to liberate a different sort of prisoner. In the past, Zuko and Katara reach Chameleon Bay and an uneasy truce.

**Book II: Earth**

 

**Chapter 4: The Bandit**

 

_ Penkou City, Fire Nation Colonies - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

The room where Lady Moravid’s maid left them to wait for the governor didn’t seem to be an actual office where work was done, but an anteroom. Sparsely furnished with wooden benches along two walls, it was nonetheless as sumptuous as the rest of the house, with a patterned tile floor, classical Earth Kingdom art hung on the walls, and a painted woodwork ceiling. But Katara barely had a moment to take in their surroundings. As soon as they were alone, Aang gave up on trying to contain the excitement he had been holding back ever since they had laid eyes on Lady Moravid.

 

“That’s her!” he exclaimed. Zuko made a sharp sign for him to keep his voice down, and Aang went on with moderated enthusiasm. “The woman I saw in the swamp was Lady Moravid!”

 

Katara sighed. She didn’t like how much weight Aang was putting on such an ambiguous vision. Obviously she had her own reasons for wanting to doubt how accurately the swamp allowed people to see the future, but even Sokka was more cautious about such premonitions. “That still doesn’t tell us what it all means,” she pointed out.

 

Aang threw his hands up in frustration. “It means she’s important, obviously! And there’s a good reason for me to be here!”

 

“But she’s not the one who asked for our help,” Zuko cautioned. “She didn’t seem to know anything about why we were here.”

 

“It could involve her, even if she doesn’t know,” Aang insisted.

 

“Maybe,” Katara allowed, folding her arms. “I’d like to hear Lord Moravid’s explanation before we jump to conclusions.”

 

The door from the corridor opened again, and as if on cue, Lord Moravid joined them. There was an awkward moment of silence - Katara was unsure if they should bow, maintaining the pretense of being servants - before the governor gestured to another door on the opposite end of the room. “In my office,” he said tersely, then led the way.

 

Katara had expected the governor’s office to be one of those dark, imposing, very masculine spaces that powerful men of every nation seemed to favor, but the room did not quite live up to expectation. The furniture was made from a dark wood, but the walls were a lighter color, and a sliding door to one side stood open onto a private garden. The collection of classical art from the anteroom continued here, maintaining the level of refinery, but on the whole this room was more relaxed. Not that Katara felt particularly relaxed, especially when Lord Moravid cast a suspicious glance out at the garden before shutting that door as well.

 

But the governor did look more at ease when he turned to face them again, giving a polite bow of his head. “Thank you for coming,” he said, taking a seat and indicating they should do the same. “Sorry about the confusion.”

 

“How was your meeting with the Fire Lord?” Zuko asked pointedly, cutting off whatever Aang was about to say.

 

Lord Moravid took the question as the accusation it was. “I didn’t know the Fire Lord would be coming here when I sent for you,” he said, just a touch on the defensive as he took his own seat behind his desk. “I want your help with something else entirely.” He hesitated, but the bland expression he had maintained since showing them into his office did not falter, and Katara was unsure if he was studying them or merely considering his next words. “It’s a rescue mission,” he said at last. “Though it will be an...unorthodox one.”

 

“Who are we rescuing?” Aang asked. The boy was clearly already on board with the mission, though given how many questions remained about Lord Moravid, Katara still had her reservations, and she knew Zuko would as well.

 

“My sister, Aruna,” Lord Moravid told Aang, his tone softening just a little. “She’s only fourteen. When my father died suddenly last year, my mother’s brother assumed custody of her.”

 

“Your mother’s brother,” Zuko echoed. “Wouldn’t that be the baron of Opal Island?” Katara frowned. Opal Island was in the Fire Nation, close to the main island. They had risked enough coming here to the colonies. A mission into the heart of the Fire Nation itself was out of the question.

 

Lord Moravid looked at Zuko with mild surprise, probably that he was so familiar with who was who in the Fire Nation nobility. “The baron is my mother’s older brother, yes,” he replied. “But this is her younger brother, my uncle Jiro, who resides here in Penkou City.”

 

“So you’re sister is living here, in your city, with your uncle,” Katara summarized. “What’s the problem?”

 

Lord Moravid sighed. “The problem is she’s a hostage.” Getting to his feet, he turned to the shelves stacked with scrolls and papers behind his desk and opened a small wooden chest. Removing a scroll from it, he handed it to Katara. “When my uncle wrote to inform me that my father had died and I was to take up the governorship, he made it quite clear that any failure on my part to enforce the Phoenix King’s will would have negative consequences for her.”

 

Katara skimmed the letter, Aang and Zuko both reading over her shoulder. The tone was formal, but the veiled threats were obvious. Jiro, it seemed, had no qualms about using his niece to ensure his nephew’s compliance. Katara found herself beginning to sympathize with the young governor for the first time.

 

“What happened to Smellerbee and her Freedom Fighters?” Zuko asked abruptly, looking up from the letter.

 

“She was taken prisoner when Gaipan was...pacified,” Lord Moravid said, bitterness coloring the last word, though he didn’t seem surprised by the question. “But she escaped with the help of another outlaw shortly after, and has rejoined her surviving forces further north.”

 

Katara was relieved to hear that, but it did raise another question. “Why can’t she help you rescue your sister? Or...whoever it was that helped her escape?” She handed Jiro’s letter back to the governor.

 

“The Bandit is what they’re calling that outlaw,” Lord Moravid explained, returning the letter to the chest he had taken it from. Turning to face them again, he must have seen their unimpressed faces. “I know, not a very descriptive name. At any rate, I have no idea who he is, what his motives are, or how to contact him.” He sat down behind his desk again, and folded his hands. “As for Smellerbee, by now everyone knows her Freedom Fighters were allied with me. If they were the ones to free Aruna, my uncle would know I was responsible, and seek retribution.”

 

Aang had been listening eagerly to all these details so far, but now he showed his first sign of skepticism. “Won’t he be angry about losing his hostage no matter who does it?” he asked.

 

“Not if I maintain the appearance of a loyal colonist,” Lord Moravid replied, addressing Aang directly. “That is, after all, what he wants from me.”

 

“The rebel Allies rescuing your sister doesn’t really look much better for you in that regard,” Zuko pointed out.

 

Lord Moravid shook his head. “The rebels aren’t going to rescue Aruna. You’re going to kidnap her.”

 

“What?” Aang blurted out in confusion. “Why would we do that?”

 

“To use her as a hostage, presumably,” the governor explained with a healthy sense of irony.

 

“But it will backfire, freeing her instead,” Zuko concluded. Katara was also beginning to catch on to the plan, but she was still hesitant. Yet Aang spoke up before she could voice any further concerns. 

 

“What about Lady Moravid?” Aang asked, evidently not giving up on his vision from the swamp.

 

Lord Moravid frowned. “What about her?” he asked, once again with a hint of the defensive.

 

“She really has nothing to do with this?” Zuko spoke up, before Aang could say anything else about swamp visions. “Even though it’s her uncle you’re looking to ally yourself with?”

 

“I would think,” the governor said tersely, “that your general would know as well as I do that Lady Moravid has had nothing to do with him in some time.”

 

“That is true,” Katara conceded with a nod. General Kwon had told them as much before they had left Omashu. Aang, looking puzzled, opened his mouth again, but at a warning look from Zuko, said nothing, slouching in his chair instead. Katara went on, “So what can you offer the General in return for our assistance?”

 

Lord Moravid had obviously anticipated the question. “Well, the first thing I can tell you is that the Fire Lord is searching for the Avatar personally. Since she left the city so quickly, I can only assume that she doesn’t know you’re here.”

 

“That’s useful,” Zuko said. “But I have a feeling the General will want something a little more substantial.”

 

Lord Moravid stood again, and removed another scroll from the shelves. “How about Fire Navy movements in and out of all the ports in this province?” he said, offering the scroll to Zuko.

 

“That is more substantial,” Katara said, impressed, as Zuko took the scroll and looked over its contents. “But you do realize passing information to General Kwon won’t be like having the Freedom Fighters in your pocket?”

 

“She’s right,” Zuko agreed, looking up from the scroll. “General Kwon will be grateful for your help, but he won’t answer to you, and the Allies will keep advancing into the colonies. We’re not here to keep the boat from rocking.”

 

Lord Moravid didn’t seem offended by their questioning him, but Katara found his reaction hard to gauge. He looked at them with a blank expression for a moment, then turned to Aang. “Stability was my goal when I thought it was the best we could hope for,” the governor explained. “I’m not sure that’s the case anymore.”

 

“We would rather you were more certain,” Zuko replied. “The General won’t like it if you’re only siding with us half-heartedly.”

 

“I would rather I was sure, too, naturally,” Lord Moravid said, still speaking to Aang.

 

“Well,  _ I’m _ sure you’re doing the right thing,” Aang said, voice low but firm. “And I’m sure we can trust you, even if no one else is.”

 

The governor smiled for the first time. “That is quite reassuring, Avatar,” he said gratefully.

 

And so it was that they agreed to the governor’s plan. Lord Moravid was able to equip them with everything they needed as well - from precise information about Jiro’s castle and its defenses, to dark uniforms suited to their stealthy mission, and even a pair of dual dao swords so Zuko would be able to fight without bending. Zuko did mutter something under his breath about being out of practice, which had Katara shaking her head. She knew he was good enough with the swords that even if his skills were rusty, she wasn’t worried about his competence.

 

What did worry her was the nagging feeling that they were working with Lord Moravid because they had no choice, rather than because he was really trustworthy.

 

* * *

 

_ Eastern Earth Kingdom - Eight Years Earlier _

 

It wasn’t long after Zuko’s wounds were cleaned and bandaged once more that a pair of soldiers - not Bo and Shuren, but different men he didn’t know - roughly escorted him out of the camp and ordered him to make himself scarce. He heard Katara protesting again as he obeyed, but he tuned her out. The captain was right. Her compassion was wasted on him. Hopefully she’d realize that soon, for the sake of everyone else in the camp.

 

He staggered towards the road, left hand pressed to his injured shoulder, which still hurt like hell. South. He’d go south. Further from the ruins of Ba Sing Se, further from Yaosai, further from the false comfort of the valley...maybe he could make it all the way to the Air Nomad territories. Nobody lived there. He had checked and double checked that. Yes, that was what he would do. He could go become a hermit at an air temple. Then they’d leave him alone.

 

He pressed on with a slow, heavy stride, the camp finally sinking under the horizon behind him. It wouldn’t be an easy journey. He had nothing but the clothes on his back, and his injuries would slow him down. He’d heard what Katara had said, that his banishment from the camp was effectively a death sentence. But she didn’t know him. She had no idea what he was capable of.

 

Eventually the sound of hurried footsteps approaching from behind made him stop and turn around, and he found none other than Katara following him. So much for her learning her lesson.

 

“What are you doing?” Zuko asked tiredly as she caught up with him.

 

Katara gave him an impatient glare, her face flushed from the exertion of walking at such a brisk pace in the heat of the day. “I’m coming with you, obviously,” she said shortly.

 

“I don’t want your help,” Zuko replied. It sounded ruder than he’d meant it, his teeth still gritted against the pain in his shoulder.

 

“Well keeping an ungrateful firebender alive isn’t exactly what I want to be doing either!” Katara snapped, hands clenching around the straps of the pack she carried on her back. She’d been allowed to leave the camp better prepared for traveling, it seemed.

 

Zuko scowled, but he realized she was right. He was being ungrateful. All she had done was try to help him, so far. “Sorry,” he said tersely, and she blinked in surprise. “But I think you’re wasting your time. I’m not about to drop dead.”

 

Katara did not look convinced, and Zuko realized belatedly that the hand still pressed to his wound was damp, while his other hand was shaking. He was bleeding through the bandages again. Letting go of the straps of her pack, Katara reached for his shoulder, clucking her tongue in disapproval. Zuko took a stubborn step back.

 

“Fine,” he bit out. “I could use your help. But I don’t need you to fuss over me like a child.”

 

The look of bewilderment Katara gave him probably meant she didn’t even realize how patronizing she was being. But she nodded in agreement, and gestured towards the shade of some trees a little way off from the road. He followed her into the shade, quietly relieved to sit for a while as Katara used yet another valuable ration of water on his shoulder.

 

As the water glowed under her hand, the pain eased, and Zuko began to feel the awkwardness of the silence. It was one thing when they were in the camp, and she was one of the camp’s medics. Taking care of him had been part of her duty, before she had discovered he was a firebender, and then part of the uneasy agreement between them. But all that was null and void thanks to his discovery and banishment from the camp. So why was she here now?

 

Instead of bringing that up, Zuko decided to try something else. “North Pole or south?” he asked. Katara gave him an incredulous look, but didn’t answer. “I’m guessing north?” he went on.

 

“South,” Katara said as she inspected her handiwork. “But I know, you didn’t have much to go on.” She replaced his bandages - without spares, they would have to be thoroughly cleaned soon. All the more reason to find a water source quickly. 

 

Katara helped him put his tunic back on - it would need to be washed, too, but there was nothing they could do about the bloodstain right now. Then she pulled another piece of cloth out of the pack she had brought. “I want to put your arm in a sling,” she explained. “Keeping it still will help your shoulder heal faster.”

 

Reluctantly, Zuko agreed. It would be hard for him to forage or build a shelter or do any of the things he was used to doing to survive in the wilderness with one arm. But the sooner he was healed, the sooner Katara could get back to her real job.

 

He still waved off the hand she offered to help him stand, getting to his feet unassisted.

 

Katara shouldered her pack again. “We should head towards the coast,” she said, pointing east. “There are still some fishing villages there.”

 

“I’d rather avoid them,” Zuko replied. Didn’t she realize, after what had happened at the camp, why he needed to keep to himself?

 

“Well, I’d rather not starve,” Katara argued.

 

“We won’t starve,” Zuko assured her. “I know how to survive in the wilderness.” Katara gave him a doubtful look. “I do!” he insisted. What did she think, that he’d been living in the lap of luxury the last few years?

 

“We should still head towards the coast,” Katara said, not sounding convinced. “That way we know we’ll find water at least by tonight.”

 

Zuko had to admit that was sensible. Leaving the shade of the trees behind, they hiked east through the dry brush until they found a dusty trail that headed in the right direction. Neither of them spoke again for a while, though Zuko caught the uneasy glances Katara gave him from time to time. It really was unfair to her, that she was stuck following him around to nurse his injuries, whatever her reasons were. The little voice that sounded like his uncle was nagging him, telling him he should be nicer to her.

 

After about three hours of walking, they came to the crest of a hill and could see the shores of Chameleon Bay ahead of them. Katara smiled, as if relieved to lay eyes on her element. The afternoon sun was at their back, and a cool breeze off the water was finally able to reach them.

 

“Zuko,” he said softly. She gave him a confused look. “That’s my name. Zuko.” It almost felt strange on his tongue. He hadn’t heard or spoken his own name since his uncle had sent him away from Ba Sing Se. He watched Katara carefully for her reaction.

 

She didn’t seem to recognized the name. She tilted her head to one side, considering. “Zuko of the big island,” she said, then extended her hand, palm upward. “Nice to meet you. I’m Katara.”

 

Zuko stared at her proffered hand. “I know that,” he said. She rolled her eyes and grabbed his right arm just below the elbow, positioning his hand at the same spot on her forearm. She gave a quick squeeze, her hand just over the lightning scar. Zuko pulled his arm away.

 

“Do you not clasp arms when you greet someone in the Fire Nation?” Katara asked dryly.

 

Commoners did, Zuko thought. But it was a gesture between equals. No one would dare try it with royalty, and no one would deign to offer their arm to a dishonored exile. “Sure, people do,” he replied awkwardly. “But I don’t.”

 

The look Katara gave him probably could have frozen salt water. “Well don’t expect me to bow to you or anything,” she scoffed. Then she marched away, down the road towards the shore, leaving Zuko to trail behind her. He suspected she had liked him better when he wasn’t talking to her.

 

* * *

 

_ Penkou City, Fire Nation Colonies - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

They waited until just after dark to infiltrate the castle, following Lord Moravid’s directions about the weak points in the castle’s defenses. His sister’s rooms were on the top floor, and the trick would be to sneak in undetected, grab the girl, and then make sure they were seen leaving with her but not caught. Lord Moravid’s guards, anonymously tipped off, would then “intercept” them outside the fortress and “rescue” the girl. With his sister safely in his custody, the “failed” kidnapping would then give Lord Moravid the pretext for not returning her to their uncle, since he clearly couldn’t be trusted to keep her safe. The “kidnappers” would be quietly made to disappear - back across the mountains to Omashu.

 

For an elaborate ruse, it seemed simple enough. At least, that was what Aang thought. Even with his adventures in the last few months, he still couldn’t claim a wealth of experience with elaborate ruses. 

 

The information Lord Moravid had provided them about the layout of the castle was good. They used back stairways and servants’ passages as much as possible, and encountered no one. Not that they had been expecting guards once they were inside - Aruna Moravid had free rein to move about her uncle’s castle, she just couldn’t leave.

 

No one spoke until they reached the door to the girl’s rooms. “Watch the corridor,” Zuko directed Aang, nudging him into an alcove behind an elaborate suit of Fire Nation armor that looked like it was older than Avatar Roku. “Warn us if someone is coming.” 

 

Aang cast a curious glance between him and Katara, who already had her hand on the door, ready to open it. “What are you going to do?” he asked, suddenly realizing they had never discussed just how they were going to convince Aruna to come with them. At least, they had never discussed it with him.

 

“Just wait here,” Katara deflected. She eased the door open without a sound and slipped inside, Zuko quickly disappearing after her. 

 

Seconds dragged by. Aang strained his ears, and heard the muffled sounds of a struggle, briefly, coming from the girl’s room, but no one else came along to notice. When Zuko and Katara re-emerged, Katara was dragging the girl, her hands bound and a gag tied over her mouth, and Zuko had his swords drawn. 

 

Even though he knew Aruna’s age, it was still a shock for Aang to see that she was barely older than him. Her black hair was mussed and her feet were bare. She was also clearly terrified. And that was no wonder - she had been snatched from her bed by strangers who had ever appearance of being ruthless kidnappers. Aang wasn’t so confident about this plan anymore.

 

Zuko tugged on his arm, snapping Aang out of his shock. “Let’s go,” he said roughly, not looking at the girl.

 

“Did you have to tie her up?” Aang complained as they made their way back towards the servants’ passage. He did glance back at Aruna, but hastily looked away when her wide, frightened eyes met his.

 

“We’re kidnapping her for the Underground,” came Katara’s pointed reply. “Not taking her on vacation.” She also sounded harsher than normal, and Aang realized that of course they had to play the part of the kidnappers convincingly for the plan to work. He hadn’t thought about how scared Aruna would be when they had gone over the plan, but surely Governor Moravid must have known. Zuko and Katara must have known, too.

 

Those sobering thoughts accompanied Aang all the way down the servants’ stairway to the ground floor, before Aang was abruptly made aware that none of them were really comfortable with this ruse, and therefore they hadn’t been watching the girl closely enough. Halfway to the kitchens that were their intended escape route, Aruna managed to slip free of her gag and scream.

 

* * *

 

After the Bandit had rescued Smellerbee from a more conventional jail in the capital city, the other leader of the Freedom Fighters had been moved to the dungeon of a castle owned by a minor Fire Nation noble. Ironically, Toph was related to the man by marriage, but she would not be making a family visit tonight.

 

Her seismic sense combined with years of experience at sneaking around made getting into the dungeon undetected as easy as child’s play, and the iron bars of the prisoner’s cell were no trouble for her either. As she broke through them with her bending, she felt the object of her rescue mission quickly get to his feet, tense and alert. But when he spoke, his easy drawl betrayed none of that.

 

“Let me guess,” the one-time Freedom Fighter said. “You’re the Bandit who’s been causing so much trouble in this city. It must be my lucky day.”

 

Toph didn’t reply, but made a sharp gesture, and the shackles around the prisoner’s wrists fell away. She could feel the tremor in his pulse, hear the sharp intake of breath, all the signs of his surprise.

 

“That is a neat trick,” he said appreciatively.

 

Toph beckoned him to follow her out of the cell. The coast was still clear, for now, but there was no point waiting around for that to change. She led him not towards the exit from the dungeon, but to the exterior wall she had come through. Stone walls could not keep an earthbender out - or in - and in recent years Toph had finally learned subtlety enough to leave no trace of her ingress or egress behind her. The wall opened to let them out into the labyrinth of gardens between the castle and its outermost fortification, and resealed itself as perfectly as the jade bracelet she had played with on her wedding day.

 

She frowned at that thought, then hastily pushed the object of her rescue behind some shrubbery as a guard made his way across the ramparts on the castle wall above them. If the Freedom Fighter objected to being manhandled, he was smart enough to keep quiet about it, at least.

 

When the coast was clear, Toph dragged him out of the bushes and towards their escape route. The trees and hedgerows would give them plenty of cover from the guards, who were reliant on sight, but it also meant they would have to move more indirectly. Toph would have prefered to charge straight through, but she knew better.

 

But they hadn’t gotten very far from the dungeon wall before a horn sounded from the far side of the citadel. It was quickly answered from posts all along the outer wall, surrounding them with the urgent, brass sound. Someone had raised the alarm.

 

“That wasn’t us,” the Freedom Fighter said pointlessly. Toph gestured for him to be quiet, listening to the rapid movements of the guards - there were so many now, off-duty men being roused from their sleep, running in every direction, sealing off every exit.

 

“We need to move,” the Freedom Fighter insisted, tugging on her arm urgently. Toph, who definitely did object to being manhandled, wrenched her arm free, but followed him nevertheless as he ran towards the kitchen gardens to the southeast. That did seem to be their best bet. There was no way they were getting out of here without a fight now, but they could still try to avoid as many of the guards as possible.

 

The Freedom Fighter, being unarmed, hung back as Toph took out the first few men they encountered, but quickly helped himself to the unconscious men’s weapons. “Smellerbee was right about one thing,” he said as he studied the blades he had appropriated. “Moravid gives his lackeys nice swords.”

 

Toph frowned again, but didn’t contradict him as she hastily shoved to unconscious bodies behind some hedges. No need to leave too obvious of a trail. They continued to make their way towards the outer wall, fighting when they had to. 

 

The fact that Jiro’s men were not directly armed or employed by her husband wasn’t really relevant right now. She was more concerned with getting out of here, and with who had set the guards on alert. No one knew that Toph was here, not even her maid, so a betrayal seemed impossible. Could there be other infiltrators in the castle? Were they also coming after the infamous Freedom Fighter, or did they have goals of their own?

 

Her questions were answered during a lull in the fighting when she felt four sets of footsteps running towards them from the kitchens who were definitely not guards. In fact, Toph recognized all four of them. One was Sanjay’s sister, Aruna, who lived here with Jiro, running - or more accurately, be dragged along - with her hands tied. The other three were the mysterious servants from earlier. She had known there was something fishy about them.

 

“Well, look who it is,” the Freedom Fighter by her side said bitterly as the newcomers drew near, evidently recognizing them as well. They had to be other rebels, then, though Jet sounded wary of them. “Who’s that you’ve got there?” Aruna’s heart was pounding in terror, as she struggled weakly against the woman who held her firmly by the upper arm. It was obvious what the imposters were doing.

 

“Jet?” the young boy imposter said in surprise. He sounded awfully young for a kidnapper. What kind of heartless idiot sent a child on a mission like this?

 

“Who’s that  _ you’ve _ got with you?” the woman who was holding on to Aruna shot back at Jet.

 

“The one and only Bandit, I guess,” Jet replied with affected disinterest, as Toph thought quickly. Liberating the Freedom Fighter was supposed to be her priority, but she didn’t like the idea of letting the rebels carry off her husband’s teenage sister to spirits knew where. Was there a way she could foil their mission without sacrificing her own?

 

“He’s awful quiet,” the other imposter said, the man who had done the better colonial accent. But sure enough, even he wasn’t bothering with it now. He was also the only one of the three who carried weapons, a pair of dao swords. The other two had to be benders, then. 

 

Jet’s hands clenched tighter around his swords - was that anger? But Toph maintained her silence with a shrug. It was part of her cover, as much as the black shroud that hid her face, letting no one who saw her know anything about her identity. More guards were approaching, and she made a quick decision, heading towards the outer wall again and beckoning for all of them to follow her. She felt the imposters hesitate, but thankfully they did come. She would rather things not get dicey between them until they were well clear of the castle.

 

“Kidnapping a Fire Nation noble’s kid, huh?” Jet remarked to the other rebels as they ran. “Wouldn’t have thought you’d have that in you.” His tone was approving. Toph didn’t like that, but it was hardly time to argue about it now.

 

“Shut up, Jet,” the woman holding Aruna snapped, before Toph could make any sign for him to be quiet. She clearly didn’t like him, and the other two seemed wary of the Freedom Fighter as well. They must have been with the other faction at Gaipan, then.

 

“The gate is further east,” the man with the dual swords pointed out. Toph was well aware of this, but she wasn’t trying to reach the gate. Another group of guards was approaching quickly as they finally got to the outer wall, so she dispensed with subtlety and wasted no time in bending an opening in the thick stone wall.

 

On the other side of the wall was the bank of the Gong River, one of the tributaries that met up with the Penkou River a few miles east, in the city. There was only one bridge that crossed it, at the castle’s main gate. Toph had planned to create her own temporary bridge, then destroy the real one to forestall any pursuit. But before she could do anything, the rebel woman nodded to the boy, and he moved his arms in a bending form Toph didn’t recognize. The earth remained still.

 

“Ice bridge, huh?” Jet said. The boy was a waterbender? That was unusual. But before Toph followed the others onto the ice platform that would leave her truly blind, she drove one foot hard into the ground, felt the stone bridge downstream from them, and with another stamp of her foot sent it crashing down into the water.

 

“Good idea,” the rebel with the swords commented as she joined them on the ice, listening carefully to their breathing the gauge where they were. The cold, slick surface was totally dead to her seismic sense, and she followed cautiously behind the rest of the group, relieved when they made it to the other side. There was shouting and commotion still coming from the castle, but the boy waved his arms at the river again, presumably melting the ice behind them, and Jiro’s guards would be hard pressed to follow them for a while.

 

They still ran, through the woods on the other side, in the direction of the city, and didn’t slow down until they were well out of sight of the castle. They came to a halt in a clearing, and the rebel woman turned suspiciously on Toph once more. “Alright,” she said impatiently. “Who the hell are you?”

 

Toph thought that was a bold question, coming from a rebel spy and kidnapper, but her only answer was to bend the earth under the woman’s feet to knock her down. Aruna fell with a muffled shriek of alarm as well, but the woman no longer had a hold of her.

 

But before Toph could get to the girl, she had to throw up a wall of stone to shield her from the waterbending boy’s retaliation. She could only feel the movements of his bending forms with precision, and vaguely hear the sound of the element itself as it whipped through the air. The man with the swords rushed at her as well, but Jet intercepted him, leaving Toph to focus on the boy. She had never fought a waterbender before. This was going to be interesting.

 

Listening carefully, Toph tried to trap the boy’s feet in the earth, but he surprised her with how quick and light-footed he was. The woman, meanwhile, had gotten to her feet, and something wet wrapped itself around Toph’s wrist, freezing solid. She hastily broke the hold with a stone that she then sent flying at the woman, who ducked out of the way and sent another blast of water at her, almost in unison with the boy, who performed the same move from Toph’s other side.

 

She blocked both of them again with slabs of stone. Two waterbenders, then. This was going to be a very interesting fight indeed.

 

* * *

 

_ Eastern Earth Kingdom - Eight Years Earlier _

 

As they drew closer to the shore of Chameleon Bay, Zuko insisted again that they avoid the village, and Katara finally relented, following him further south towards an uninhabited stretch of rocky coast. It was deliciously cool here compared to the heat further inland, and the sound of the waves immediately put Katara in better spirits. She set her pack down on dry ground, kicked off her shoes, and ran the last few yards across the slippery rocks down to the water, bending it around her in a haphazard form that would have had Amaruk yelling at her. But she was just happy to have such an abundant source of her element again.

 

“Can you heal with salt water?” Zuko called to her from where he stood on dry stones, just out of the reach of the waves.

 

“I can,” Katara replied, still ankle-deep in her element. Waves eddied in and around the rocks like an ever-shifting boundary between them. “But it would be better if it were clean.”

 

With a nod, Zuko backtracked the few paces to where she had left her pack. “Did you bring something to boil water?” he asked.

 

“Yeah,” Katara said, trudging up the rocky beach after him. She had learned several methods of purifying salt water during the past several weeks of drought, the simplest requiring only a cooking pot to boil the water while she bent the steam into another container. Unfortunately, she didn’t know of any way to purify the water with her bending alone, and neither had Nivi. Neither Kida nor Amaruk had ever taught them anything about that.

 

Zuko apparently didn’t want to go through her things, because he waited for her to get the small cooking pot and an empty waterskin out of her bag. As she filled the pot with seawater, she offhandedly asked Zuko to start a fire.

 

“It’d be faster if I just…” Zuko began, then looked around as if to make sure no one was watching them. Satisfied that they were alone, he then knelt beside her on the ground and placed his free hand on the side of the pot. He closed his eyes, and Katara realized he must have been using his firebending, because a moment later the water was boiling.

 

“That is convenient,” Katara commented, quickly catching the steam with her bending and condensing the now clean water into the waterskin.

 

“Yeah,” Zuko said in a strange voice, his eyes fixed on the boiling water. “It’s great for making tea as well.”

 

Katara nodded absently, still mostly focused on collecting the steam. “I bet you make good tea, then,” she said. There were so many uses for firebending she had never considered.

 

“No,” Zuko replied after an awkward pause. “I’m terrible at it.”

 

Katara didn’t know what to make of that response, and Zuko apparently had lost interest in conversation again, so they fell back into silence until the waterskin was filled. Katara capped the waterskin, which they would save for drinking water, and then refilled the pot with seawater again. This time, as Zuko boiled it, she collected the steam into a ball of water that she kept suspended in the air, which she would use for healing.

 

She wound up using all of it to close the gash in his shoulder as much as she could, and then some additional seawater as well, just for the bruising from the hammer blow around the older wound. Then they had to boil more water so she could clean the bandages and wash the bloodstains out of his tunic. In the end, Zuko said his arm felt much better, but she still insisted he keep it in the sling.

 

The sun was low on the horizon by the time she finished. They gathered their things - Zuko made a small protest about her carrying everything, but a pointed reminder of his injury silenced him - and trekked further back up the shore, to where some large rocks created a relatively sheltered area.

 

“We can set up the tent here,” Katara declared. If Zuko was dead set against going to the village, they would have to make camp before it got much darker.

 

“They let you take a tent?” Zuko asked, giving her a look of surprise.

 

Katara raised an eyebrow at him as she unfolded the clearly Water Tribe blue material. “It’s my tent,” she explained. She hadn’t used it in a while, not since she had taken to sleeping in the infirmary, but she had made it herself before leaving the South Pole. She hadn’t taken anything from the camp that didn’t belong to her.

 

Zuko didn’t offer to help her set up the tent, but he did dig a fire pit and build a campfire without being asked. That was an easier job for him to do one-handed, and probably he had some firebender sense of pride about it anyway.

 

“I’m sorry there’s nothing to eat,” Katara said softly when their campsite was all set up. She couldn’t have countenanced taking food from the camp, and had anticipated traveling to a town where they could buy something. “We can try fishing first thing in the morning,” she offered. Not that she was much good at it.

 

Zuko only shrugged with his good shoulder. “I’ve gone without dinner before,” he said.

 

Katara didn’t find that hard to believe, but it only deepened her curiosity about his past. The main island of the Fire Nation, where Zuko said he came from, was supposed to be highly prosperous. And there were times, like when he had refused to clasp arms with her, that Zuko certainly acted like he had a high opinion of his own status. How had he wound up living so rough, worse off than even many of the peasant refugees, in the farthest part of the Earth Kingdom from his home?

 

With no meal to cook or clean up, there wasn’t much else to do once the sun had gone down, and Zuko wasn’t exactly an engaging conversationalist. With a tired sigh, Katara announced she was going to bed. Zuko nodded, but otherwise made no move, still staring into the fire - she didn’t think he was meditating, since the flames flickered in their natural, irregular way, rather than a steady rhythm. 

 

With one hand on the tent flap, Katara hesitated. The tent was large enough for two - she had shared it with Nivi on their journey from Gaoling to the refugee camp. But it suddenly occurred to her that Zuko was...not Nivi, or even Sokka. It was different. More awkward.

 

“Um, when you’re ready to turn in…” she began hesitantly, not looking at him.

 

“I’ll stay out here,” Zuko finished for her.

 

“Oh,” Katara said, relieved but also surprised, and a little guilty. “You don’t...have to?” she suggested. She didn’t want him to think she was forcing him to sleep out in the elements.

 

“It’s fine,” Zuko insisted. “Firebender, remember?”

 

Katara didn’t quite see what that had to do with it. Could he keep the fire going in his sleep? She looked back at him, but he was still staring into the flames with the same blank look on his face, the harsh lines of his scar emphasized by the flickering light. “How could I forget?” she replied dryly.

 

Zuko was silent again, and a voice in Katara’s head that sounded like Gran Gran scolded her to drop it. It wasn’t like she wanted him in the tent with her anyway, for spirits’ sake.

 

She ducked inside, letting the tent flap fall closed behind her, and lay down. She didn’t know when or how Zuko went to bed outside, but the light from the campfire was still shining dimly through the canvas when she finally fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

_ Penkou City, Fire Nation Colonies - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

Zuko had, stupidly, been caught off guard when Jet’s mysterious companion turned on them, but he was not surprised when Jet himself came to the silent earthbender’s defense. Though he had barely interacted with the more radical Freedom Fighter when they were in Gaipan, he had gleaned enough to guess that Jet would still bear a grudge against anyone who had sided with Smellerbee.

 

“Do you know what Zhao did to my town?” Jet taunted bitterly as he swung one of his stolen swords at Zuko’s head. Zuko deflected the blow with his own borrowed blades. “He burned it to the ground,” Jet went on, his voice as savage as his attacks. “There’s  _ nothing _ left, and Smellerbee couldn’t save anyone, no matter how much she tried to play nice with yellow-eyed bastards like  _ you _ !”

 

“You’re not exactly helping the cause yourself at the moment,” Zuko shot back, knocking one of Jet’s blades away again and swiping at his midsection. Jet’s swords were heavy, not made for dual wielding, but he was managing with them well enough. Zuko considered firebending to end the fight so he could help Aang and Katara against the earthbender - he didn’t care if Jet hated him - but Lord Moravid’s men were supposed to be arriving to “rescue” his sister soon, and if any of them saw that there was a firebender among the rebel kidnappers, it could give away who they were.

 

“The only thing that helps the cause,” Jet said with a grunt as Zuko dodged another attack and blocked the followup strike with the other sword, “is killing every last Fire Nation scum that sets foot on our land.” He swung both swords towards Zuko’s right side, and Zuko only just recognized the feint in time to step out of the way of the kick aimed at his left side. “And that won’t even equal how many people you killed in Ba Sing Se.”

 

“It won’t end the war,” Zuko pointed out, swiping a kick of his own at Jet’s legs. Jet jumped out of the way, and Zuko caught both of his swords with his own blades as they came crashing down overhead. He knew trying to argue with Jet was pointless. Ending the war meant nothing to him - only revenge. Men like that had given up all hope a long time ago.

 

Zuko may have been the more agile of the two, but Jet was the stronger, and as the fight went on he drove them back into the trees, away from the earthbender who was holding her own against Aang and Katara. Zuko spared one desperate glance around for Aruna, and just glimpsed the girl cowering on the other side of the clearing before Jet’s swords came crashing down towards him again, demanding his full attention. This was not how things were supposed to go. Where was the governor’s rescue party?

 

As if on cue, small, black stones came flying out of the darkness and clapped themselves around Jet’s wrists. Zuko, who had been warned that Lord Moravid’s personal guard had been trained by the Dai Li before the burning, didn’t resist as similar restraints laid hold of him. He just hoped the governor’s men were a match for the mysterious earthbender back in the clearing.

 

Zuko let the guards who materialized out of the trees force him to his knees, but Jet continued to struggle, and they had to bind his legs in stone as well. When the guards hauled them back to the clearing, they found Aang and Katara similarly “captured”, kneeling on the ground with two more guards standing over them - but there was no sign of the mystery earthbender.

 

More alarmingly, there was no sign of Aruna.

 

“Where’s the girl?” the guard who had a hold of Zuko asked.

 

“The Bandit took her and ran when we caught these two,” another guard responded, nudging Aang with the toe of his boot - not roughly, but not gently, either. Lord Moravid’s guards were disciplined, but they weren’t in on the plan. “Raj took the others and went after them.”

 

Zuko and Jet were forced to their knees as well, and Zuko met Katara’s eyes across the clearing. It was hard to tell in the dim light of the waning moon, but she looked unhurt, though her mouth was set in a grim line. If the Bandit got away with Lord Moravid’s sister, who knew what he would do with her.

 

After several long, excruciating minutes, the other guards came back. They were battered, out of breath, and empty-handed.

 

“They got away,” one of the breathless guards said, shaking his head. “I’ve never seen earthbending like that before.”

 

The guard who had captured Zuko, likely the captain, swore under his breath. “We’d better get these four back to the governor,” he said, hauling Zuko to his feet again. “He’ll want to have them interrogated right away.”

 

The others were made to stand as well, and then to walk in the direction of the city, except for Jet, whose legs were still bound, and who had to be dragged by a pair of guards. Jet cursed and complained of this treatment the whole way, until the guards threatened him with a gag. But Zuko had no pity to spare for him.

 

He was more concerned with how they were going to explain to the governor that their rescue mission had failed.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: The Escape - Friday, December 7th


	23. The Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a rescue mission gone awry, our heroes have to face Lord Moravid, while the Bandit makes another attempt to spring Jet from prison. In the past, Zuko and Katara go fishing.

**Book II: Earth**

 

**Chapter 5: The Escape**

 

_Penkou City, Fire Nation Colonies - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet_

 

Though it was the governor’s personal guard who had caught them, Lord Moravid’s residence, unlike his uncle’s castle, did not have a dungeon, or any place suited to holding prisoners, so it was the holding cell of a municipal jail on the outskirts of the city where the would-be kidnappers of Aruna Moravid found themselves awaiting their fate. The cell’s only prior occupant, an old man who smelled heavily of alcohol, had been evicted upon their arrival. The stone cuffs had been removed once they were in the cell, but when Jet had immediately tried to attack Zuko again, the guards had re-cuffed him and removed him to somewhere else. Now, Katara and Zuko sat with their backs to the wall, with Aang in between them, as they waited for the governor to arrive.

 

“I wonder what time it is,” Katara said softly. The cell, a narrow room with smooth stone walls, naturally had no windows. Dim light filtered in through the bars of the door from a flickering lantern in the corridor outside.

 

“The sun’s not coming up yet,” Zuko replied, his voice even lower. He didn’t need to elaborate on how he knew. That didn’t give them a very accurate idea of the time, and the waning moon was too weak for Katara to tell if it had set yet, but it felt like they had been sitting in the cell for an oddly long time. Lord Moravid was supposed to come “deal with them” immediately, according to the plan, and the guards had even said he would want them interrogated right away. What was the delay?

 

Katara turned her attention to Aang, who was sitting with his knees drawn up and his head bowed. The black cowl he’d worn to cover his tattoos completely cast his face in shadow at that angle, but Katara knew he must be feeling miserable. He’d started losing his nerve even before things had begun to go south. In retrospect, it seemed obvious that bringing Aang along to kidnap a teenage girl, even if the kidnapping was really a rescue, had been a bad idea. She and Zuko had both been so dazzled by the promise of what Lord Moravid could do for the Allies as an informant, they had lost sight of Aang’s youth and sensitivity.

 

And now, it didn’t even look like they’d won Lord Moravid’s trust, for all their trouble.

 

Shifting against the hard stone floor of the cell, Katara put her arm around Aang. “This isn’t your fault,” she told him. “It was a risky plan, and Zuko and I should have known better.”

 

“I was more eager to go through with it than you were,” came Aang’s muffled reply.

 

“That’s true,” Katara conceded. He’d been motivated by whatever meaning he saw in his vision of Lady Moravid from the Foggy Swamp. “But we still should have known better.”

 

Aang sighed and lifted his face, staring blankly at the opposite wall of the cell, much like Zuko was now doing. The three of them lapsed into silence. Doubtless the other two, like Katara, were contemplating what the Bandit could have done with Aruna, and what Lord Moravid would do with them now that they had failed. But neither questions seemed worth speculating on out loud, at least to Katara.

 

Just when she was about to ask Zuko if he could feel the sun coming up yet, the iron gate that served as the door of the cell screeched open, and Lord Moravid himself entered. He was alone, which Katara wasn’t sure was a good sign. He also didn’t look particularly outraged, but he had been so impassive during their first meeting that she wasn’t sure how to read his apparent calm now, either. The three of them remained seated against the wall, like good little cooperative prisoners, as Lord Moravid stood over them.

 

“My sister,” the governor began tersely, as Katara felt Aang’s shoulders tense, “is safe, no thanks to you.”

 

“You found the Bandit?” Aang blurted out hopefully.

 

“No,” Lord Moravid said with a frown. “The Bandit somehow infiltrated my own home without any of my guards being the wiser, and left Aruna in my office, completely unharmed.” He folded his arms over his chest, looking truly imposing for the first time. “Now why would he do that?”

 

Katara exchanged confused glances with both Zuko and Aang. “We don’t know,” Zuko spoke on their behalf. “You probably know more about the Bandit than we do.”

 

“What I know is that this outlaw tried to free one of the most dangerous men in the entire province when he had finally been brought to heel.” Lord Moravid glanced briefly at Aang, then back to Zuko. “Did Smellerbee tell you what Jet did in Gaipan?”

 

“She gave us a good summary,” Katara replied. They knew Jet was dangerous, a bloodthirsty extremist. Setting him loose hadn’t been their goal, even if they had reluctantly cooperated with him and the Bandit to escape from Jiro’s castle. The alliance hadn’t lasted long, anyway.

 

“Then you know what has to happen to him now,” Lord Moravid continued. “Since my uncle’s castle is neither a safe place for my sister to reside nor a reliable prison to keep hold of the likes of him.”

 

Katara thought of the bitterness with which Smellerbee had spoken of Jet, who had once been her friend, and felt something like a twinge of regret. But it was very faint. “I know,” she said.

 

But Aang was looking at her in confusion. “What has to happen to him?” he asked in a timid voice. “Will he be sent somewhere worse?”

 

“In a manner of speaking,” Lord Moravid said.

 

“He has to be executed,” Zuko explained. He was giving Lord Moravid a scrutinizing look. “Jet is too dangerous to be kept alive, if he might escape and go back to terrorizing civilians.”

 

Lord Moravid gave a curt nod of confirmation at the same time that Aang made a startled noise of protest.

 

“You can’t just kill him because he tried to escape!” Aang objected.

 

“That man has had children put to death for the crime of having Fire Nation blood,” the governor said bluntly, and Katara had to suppress a shudder. Her own son was guilty of that crime...and so was the governor. It made her oddly sympathetic to Lord Moravid, remembering that he had grown up half-Fire Nation among people who would always see him as suspect for that. How hard had it been for him to navigate the complex currents of the war that ran right through the heart of his own family?

 

“Killing him won’t make up for anything he did,” Aang insisted, the self-doubt he had fallen into since their apprehension evidently forgotten. “The monks used to say…”

 

“I don’t care,” Lord Moravid cut him off. “I didn’t come here to debate philosophy with you.”

 

“Why did you come here?” Zuko asked suspiciously, getting to his feet. “If your sister is safe, what more do you want from us?” Following his lead, Katara stood as well, pulling Aang up with her even as the boy still scowled at the way the governor had dismissed him.

 

“You failed the mission I gave you,” Lord Moravid replied. “But I’m willing to give you a second chance before I send you back to your general, if you’re willing to take it.”

 

“How generous of you,” Katara said dryly. But she he could easily have sent them away empty-handed at this point, with nothing to show General Kwon for all the risks they had taken. Whatever favor he asked of them now, she just hoped it was something Aang could participate in with a clear conscience.

 

“What are we supposed to do this time?” Zuko asked, echoing her own thoughts. “Not another kidnapping, I hope. We’re clearly not very good at those.”

 

“No,” Lord Moravid agreed. “This time, you’re going to help me catch the Bandit.”

 

“You want to hunt down the guy who just saved your sister from her apparent kidnappers?” Katara asked skeptically. “The same person who freed Smellerbee? It seems like whoever this guy is, he’s on your side.”

 

But Zuko was shaking his head. “The Bandit tried to free Jet, too,” he pointed out. “That makes him a liability.”

 

“Precisely,” Lord Moravid agreed. “So help me find him, and I’ll send you on your way back to General Kwon with the information he wants.”

 

“And if we don’t help you?” Aang asked petulantly. Katara gave him a warning look, but she had to admit she’d been wondering the same thing.

 

“Then I send you back empty handed,” the governor replied. “I’m not your enemy, but I don’t have to be your ally, either. The choice is yours.”

 

Katara exchanged a glance with Zuko. It was a clear choice. “How are we supposed to help you catch this guy?” she relented.

 

“You can start by telling me everything you learned about him from your encounter,” Lord Moravid replied, with just a hint of satisfaction at their cooperation.

 

But Aang wasn’t done being stubborn. “Can’t your own guards tell you about him?” he asked. “They fought him, too.”

 

“I’ve already heard what they have to say,” the governor replied, unfazed by Aang’s attitude. “I want to hear your perspective.”

 

Aang crossed his arms and scowled at the floor, but Katara could tell that this was mostly for show, and he was really thinking back over their interactions with the Bandit. With a sigh she did the same, trying to think if there were any weaknesses in the mysterious earthbender’s fighting style.

 

Zuko spoke out loud first. “He’s short,” he observed. “Probably young, though clearly a proficient earthbender.” He looked to Katara and Aang. “You actually fought him, what do you think?”

 

Katara shook her head. “I’ve never seen anyone earthbend like that,” she said. “I don’t think it was a common style. Maybe he was Dai Li trained?”

 

“Not likely, if he’s really that young,” Lord Moravid pointed out. “Besides, my guards were Dai Li trained, and they didn’t recognize the forms either.”

 

“Ice,” Aang said suddenly. All three adults looked at him in confusion. “When we made the ice bridge over the river,” he explained, all of his sulks forgotten. “The Bandit was really reluctant to cross it.”

 

“I thought that was just because he was barefoot,” Zuko said with a shrug. It wasn’t uncommon for earthbenders to go barefoot, to better connect with their element, and Katara knew even she wouldn’t have relished the idea of walking across an ice bridge without shoes.

 

“Maybe,” Aang allowed. “But how could he see anything?”

 

Lord Moravid raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

 

“His face was totally covered,” Aang reminded them, waving a hand in front of his own face to make his point. “So how could he see?”

 

“What are you suggesting?” Lord Moravid pressed, an unusual edge creeping into his voice.

 

Aang turned to Zuko. “You can feel the sun, because you’re a firebender,” he said. Then he turned to Katara. “And you’ve taught me how to feel the moon’s power with waterbending.” He looked up at Lord Moravid. “So can’t earthbenders feel the earth?”

 

“Of course we can,” Lord Moravid replied shortly, turning and taking a few steps away from them. “So you think...that this is how the Bandit was making up for not being able to see?” The edge in his voice had turned to a tremor.

 

Aang shrugged. “I don’t know, it’s just a theory,” he said, looking first to Katara, then Zuko. Katara shrugged, and Zuko made a similarly noncommittal gesture with both hands. Neither of them knew enough about earthbending to say how plausible Aang’s theory was. Inevitably, all eyes came to rest on the only trained earthbender in the room.

 

Lord Moravid was silent for a long time. Still facing away from them, his back was ramrod straight, and his fists were clenched tight at his sides. As his silence dragged on, Katara began to wonder if he had forgotten they were there.

 

“You know someone who can do that,” Katara guessed. Lord Moravid gave a little start, the first real break in his composure they had seen, all but confirming her suspicions. “You know who the Bandit is.”

 

“I have a reasonable suspicion,” Lord Moravid said at last, his voice strained with some emotion Katara found hard to identify. He didn’t sound angry, exactly. More like...hurt. The person he suspected must be someone he knew, a personal betrayal.

 

“Well, that’s good, isn’t it?” Aang asked. “If you know his identity, you know how to find him, and you don’t need us anymore.” He took a deep breath, as if steeling himself. “Now, about Jet…”

 

“You’ll be transported in a few hours,” Lord Moravid cut him off again, distractedly rather than deliberately this time. “Officially, you’ve been sentenced to a term of years working in the mines to the south. The guards will actually bring you to a meeting spot outside the city, where I will pass on the information for your general. Then you’re free to go.” And with those hurried instructions, he swept out of the cell, the door slamming shut behind him with a clang.

 

Katara exchanged another confused look with Zuko. But before either of them could comment on the governor’s abrupt exit, there came a thundering sound that shook the walls of their prison, a sound like stone being forcefully blasted apart by an earthbender.

 

“I don’t think the governor needs to worry about finding the Bandit,” Zuko said. “It sounds like he’s found us.”

 

* * *

 

_Eastern Earth Kingdom - Eight Years Earlier_

 

Zuko was finishing his dawn meditation with a small flame cupped in one hand when he heard Katara emerge from her tent on the first morning after she had followed him out of the refugee camp. He had removed the sling from his arm when he had finally lain down to sleep last night, and his injured arm now rested limply in his lap.

 

“Is your shoulder in a lot of pain?” Katara asked as soon as Zuko opened his eyes. There were dark circles under her eyes, but she maintained her businesslike focus on him. She must have been well trained as a healer.

 

Zuko shrugged with his good shoulder as he closed his hand into a fist, extinguishing the flame. It did hurt, but no more than he would have expected. “Feels like it got hit with a warhammer,” he said dryly.

 

“Funny,” Katara commented, sitting next to him. “Let me take a look at it.” She reached out gently, and Zuko obligingly shrugged off the tunic he was wearing unbelted.  She unwound the bandages on his shoulder as she had done so many times before, and quickly pressed another handful of healing water to the wound, which seemed to be bleeding less than it had been last night. “If we boil enough water today, I could probably heal this completely,” she told him.

 

Zuko was surprised how little this prognosis moved him. He should be happy about the idea - he wouldn’t be in pain anymore, he could go on his way, and Katara could get back to her more important work in the camp. But he didn’t feel anything like happiness. “Let’s take care of food first,” was all he said.

 

Katara nodded. “Was it really bandits who did that to you?” she asked as she fetched the sling. “The initial wound, I mean.”

 

“Yes,” Zuko said, a little indignant. Just because he had tried to hide his firebending didn’t mean everything he’d told her was a lie. In fact, none of it was, really. “The same ones who attacked the camp, actually.”

 

Katara shook her head as she eased his arm back into the sling. “That’s some pretty rotten luck.”

 

Zuko frowned. “That’s the only kind of luck I’ve got,” he said matter-of-factly.

 

Katara gave him a pitying look, and Zuko turned his face away from her, embarrassed. He wasn’t feeling sorry for himself. It was just the truth.

 

Thankfully, Katara didn’t press the issue. With his arm now secured in the sling once more, she went back to her tent and returned with some of the basin they had used to boil water. “Why’d they attack you in the first place?” she asked.

 

“They were looking for a place to lay low, I guess,” Zuko explained, getting to his feet and following her back towards the water. The tide was higher than it had been yesterday when they’d arrived. “And they found the valley where I’d been living, and decided to chase me out of it.”

 

“The valley,” Katara repeated, setting the basin down on the rocks. “You mean out in the brush?”

 

“Yeah,” Zuko replied, watching her bend seawater into the basin again. Waterbending was so different from firebending or earthbending, so much more fluid. He wondered if airbending had been anything like that.

 

The basin now full, Katara rested her hands on her hips. “Why were you living out in the wilderness all by yourself?”

 

“Why do you think?” Zuko shot back, laying his free hand on the side of the basin and heating the water to a boil, as if to make his point. “Believe it or not, there aren’t a lot of nice Earth Kingdom towns ready to welcome a firebender.”

 

“That doesn’t…” But Katara sighed and didn’t finish that thought. “Nevermind.” Waving her arms in more graceful movements, she condensed the steam coming off the boiling water and refilled her waterskin. “Let’s just focus on fishing.”

 

Zuko certainly didn’t mind the change of subject, and he objected to the idea of acquiring food even less, but he saw one major flaw in her suggestion. “We don’t have any fishing gear,” he pointed out. He had little experience with fishing himself, but he knew you needed nets, or lines, or something.

 

Katara smirked as she waded into the shallows. “Waterbender, remember?”

 

“Right,” Zuko said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “How could I forget?”

 

* * *

 

_Penkou City, Fire Nation Colonies - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet_

 

Once she had gotten her out of the woods, sneaking Aruna into the city and depositing her in Sanjay’s office had been almost laughably easy. The poor girl was completely bewildered by her silent rescuer, but the less she knew about it the better. Toph might not have been on the best of terms with her husband just then, but she wasn’t about to let his kid sister fall into the hands of his enemies, no matter how much she sympathized with their cause. Maybe she’d been right to cut ties with her uncle after all, if this was how he ran his resistance.

 

Even more alarmingly, the rebel agents sent to do the dirty working of kidnapping Aruna had been smuggled into the city as servants in Toph’s own household, summoned by Sanjay’s request. If her uncle could pull that off, he was better connected than she had thought. He must have had someone working for him in the governor’s staff already, who would have suggested the idea of requesting the servants from Gaoling…

 

But Toph didn’t have time to work out that mystery now. It was a miracle the leader of the Freedom Fighters had been allowed to live this long in captivity. Now that he was a flight risk, he would almost certainly be put to death if Toph couldn’t get him to safety immediately. So as soon as she was sure that Aruna was safe, she made her way back out into the city, to track down the original object of that night’s rescue mission.

 

She doubted Jet would be brought back to the same place he had been held before, but there were a number of other smaller prisons in and around the city where they might have squirreled him away this time. Her seismic senses had a wide range, but she still needed to get pretty close to locate a specific person with any certainty. And as the morning approached and the first early risers of the city began to go out about about their day, she had to move more slowly and carefully to avoid detection.

 

When she finally got to the small jail on the outskirts of the city, she almost missed him. It was the sort of place where petty criminals were locked up for a few days, not where she would have expected them to stash a dangerous revolutionary - but maybe that was exactly whey they had chosen it. Jet’s breathing and heartbeat were also slower than they had been when she’d first found him - he must have fallen asleep - and she almost didn’t recognize him. She only stopped and gave a more cautious examination to the occupants of the low stone building because she did recognize the three people in another cell. The kidnappers had been brought here, too.

 

Well, Toph certainly wasn’t here to set _them_ free. But snatching Jet away from a guarded jail cell, with the sun coming up soon, was going to require a diversion. Hugging the outer wall of the building, she ran her hand along the stones again, this time concentrating on the other people outside the cells, looking for an accurate count of how many guards there were…

 

Her own heart skipped a beat. The guards were surprisingly few, but Sanjay was in there, too.

 

He was extremely agitated - unsurprising, given the events of the last several hours. What was surprising was that he didn’t seem to be doing anything besides pacing an empty office. He wasn’t talking to any of the guards or the prisoners.

 

The guards, for their part, were concentrated around Jet’s cell. The other prisoners - both the kidnappers, held together, and another man held separately that Toph didn’t recognize - were unguarded. Was Sanjay really more concerned about Jet than the double agents who had tried to kidnap his sister? She couldn’t even begin to fathom his priorities.

 

But this wasn’t the time for introspection. The city was stirring to life as morning broke, and if she didn’t get Jet out now, it would soon be virtually impossible to make a clean getaway. Too many people had seen her that night as it was.

 

Bursting through the wall of the jail was a refreshingly direct move in the life of subterfuge Toph lived these days, and the guards - caught unawares and not even Sanjay’s Dai Li trained elites - were easily incapacitated in the corridor where she found them. If she could just get to Jet’s cell quickly enough…

 

But four more sets of footsteps were running in her direction. Sanjay, and the three kidnappers. Why were they loose? What was her husband thinking? But Toph had little thought to spare for that perplexing question, for the two waterbenders were not only loose but armed, and countering their element took all of her attention.

 

“Subdue only!” Sanjay barked as an order, trying to bend the stone floor beneath her feet. But Toph could feel every one of his attacks coming, and kept her balance over every movement in the earth. “Don’t hurt her!”

 

“We might not have a choice!” the woman shouted back as Toph ducked out of the way of one of her water whips and threw up a stone shield to block a similar attack by the young boy. Were the rebels actually taking directions from Sanjay? That made even less sense.

 

Toph decided it was time to level the playing field. A fine layer of stone dust was accumulating on the floor from all of the earth that had been bent. With a stomp of her left foot and then a swipe of her right, Toph sent the dust flying into the air. It might not completely blind her opponents, but it should be enough to hamper their sight, which they were so used to relying on. And that should give her the opportunity to…

 

Toph never got to put her plan into action. The boy suddenly changed bending forms, and rather than another watery attack, Toph felt a sudden gust of wind blow through the corridor, undoubtedly clearing away her hasty dust screen. The boy could _airbend_?

 

Belatedly, Toph remembered that there were three rebels, not just two, when the nonbender she had mostly discounted took advantage of her shock to land a well-placed kick to her side, sending her reeling.

 

“Ice!” he called out to the others.

 

And before Toph could regain her footing, a sheet of frozen water spread out along the floor, cutting her off from her element. She slipped, fell to one knee, and another tendril of cold water wrapped around her right wrist, dragged it to meet her left, and also froze solid.

 

“Enough!” came Sanjay’s voice again. And it sounded like the rebels heeded him, though Toph could no longer feel precisely where they were or what they were doing. She twisted her arms as much as she could, but the ice was too thick for her to break free.

 

Cautious footsteps came towards her across the ice. Sanjay? Or one of the others? She wasn’t sure, but whoever it was carefully sank to one knee in front of her.

 

“Is that a good idea?” the boy asked nervously.

 

“She won’t attack me,” Sanjay replied. “Will you, Toph?” And he pulled back the cowl that covered her face.

 

The three rebels made various noises of surprise as Toph shook loose the hair, damp with sweat, that clung to her face. She had, on occasion, imagined scenarios in which her husband might have discovered her alter-ego as the Bandit, but certainly none had gone like this, with her at his mercy, defeated by a couple of waterbenders. Or at least, a waterbender and a boy who could bend water, but seemingly air as well...

 

“So,” Toph said as casually as she could, but unable to fully keep the accusatory tone out of her voice. “How long have you been working with the Avatar?”

 

“Not as long as you’ve been liberating dangerous criminals,” Sanjay replied. He was still kneeling in front of her, rather close by the sound of it.

 

“The Bandit...is your wife?” the nonbender asked unnecessarily. He wasn’t blind, too, was he?

 

“This makes so much sense!” the boy who was apparently the Avatar exclaimed, his voice coming from somewhere to Sanjay’s right.

 

“It does?” the woman asked in confusion. Even Toph had to admit she didn’t follow the young Avatar’s logic.

 

“This is why I had that vision of her in the swamp!” the Avatar replied, as if that explained everything.

 

“Alright,” Toph said. “You’ve lost me.”

 

“What I don’t understand,” the nonbender spoke up again, his rough, demanding tone a far cry from the docile voice of a servant he had affected just yesterday, “is why you’re so intent on setting Jet free.”

 

“Should I be kidnapping children instead?” Toph shot back angrily. “Would that help the rebel cause?”

 

“Jet murders children,” Sanjay replied, with the same hard tone she had never heard him use before his father died.

 

“Where did you hear that?” Toph asked dismissively, wriggling her arms again to try to get more leverage to break the ice cuffs on her wrists. No luck. Her patience was wearing thin, both with the ice and her husband’s duplicity. “Did the Fire Lord tell you that during your little chat?”

 

“It was Smellerbee who first told me,” Sanjay countered. He must have leaned towards her, because he sounded even closer now. “And my own investigations confirmed the killings. Do you not know anything about the people you’re setting free?”

 

“Don’t _lecture_ me,” Toph spat, stamping her heel against the ice. It didn’t crack, and she immediately regretted it when the cold, hard substance crawled up her legs as well, trapping her even more thoroughly.

 

“Let her go,” Sanjay unexpectedly ordered the rebels. His rebels, apparently. “We don’t have time for this. More guards will be coming to investigate the disturbance, and you all need to be gone when they get here.”

 

The ice melted, and the world came back into focus. Sanjay got to his feet, and offered her a hand. The rebels stood around him, still on alert, while in his cell, mere feet away, Jet was pacing anxiously.

“We need to be gone,” Toph echoed. “But Jet stays here, right? You get what you want?”

 

“What I want right now is for you to be safe,” Sanjay replied, his hand still pointedly held out to her. It seemed to be the truth. He might as well have said the words - do you trust me?

 

Toph got to her feet without taking his hand. “Fine,” she said, self-conscious about the presence of the rebels as witness to this conversation now that she could feel them again. “But this isn’t over.”

 

“I should hope not,” Sanjay replied. Then he turned to the the others. “Leave the city through the Moose Lion Gate. There’s a group of standing stones about a mile south of there - that’s the meeting point I had arranged. Wait for me there.”

 

“With her?” the waterbending woman asked with a skeptical gesture in Toph’s direction.

 

Sanjay turned back towards her. “If she wants to,” he said simply. He lifted one hand, but whatever gesture he had begun, he must have thought better of it, because the hand fell back to his side a moment later. Toph could feel the guards he had warned them of approaching now.

 

Wordlessly, she took her leave of the jail, the rebels following as she lead the way towards the Moose Lion Gate.

 

* * *

 

_Eastern Earth Kingdom - Eight Years Earlier_

 

In spite of her confidence when she had waded into the water up to her waist, Katara did not have much luck with fishing. She had thought it was still early enough in the day that the fish would be active in the shallows, but maybe Earth Kingdom fish were different. After nearly an hour, she had only one small, sickly looking fish to show for her efforts.

 

Zuko, of course, was no help. Not that there was much he could have done, with his arm still in the sling, and no nets or tackle or even a spear, but as her frustration with her own failure mounted it was hard not to resent him sitting on the rocky shore watching her.

 

“You’re not very good at fishing, are you?” Zuko finally called out to her.

 

“I’ve done more than you!” she called back over her shoulder, eyes still scanning the water for any sign of life. There were a few small minnows darting here and there - why weren’t the larger fish coming to feed on them?

 

Zuko was apparently unimpressed by her pointing out his own uselessness. “You’re the one from the Water Tribe,” he countered. She didn’t turn to look at him, but he definitely sounded like he’d come closer.

 

“I’m also the one who wanted to go to the village, so we wouldn’t starve,” Katara reminded him, still looking for - there! With a sweep of her hand she pulled the water up...empty. The fish had been swifter than her, again.

 

She let the water splash back down in frustration. All her training and she couldn’t even catch a fish with her waterbending. She rounded on Zuko, another scathing comment on her lips, but like the fish, Zuko was faster than her.

 

“Fine,” he bit out, glaring at the water somewhere in front of her. He had waded in himself, up to his knees, getting closer than she had realized. “You go, then. Nothing’s stopping you.”

 

“I’m not your errand girl, you know,” Katara said sharply, wading a few paces back towards him. He was being paranoid. No one was going to realize he was a firebender on one quick food run into the town. “You can come with me.”

 

“It’s better if I don’t,” Zuko insisted stubbornly, still not meeting her eyes. “In fact, maybe it’s better if you just go back to the refugee camp now.”

 

That took Katara by surprise, and she halted in her tracks. She was only a few feet from him now, and the shifting tidal waters of the bay eddied around her legs, but of course she had no fear of losing her balance. “What?” she asked softly.

 

For a moment, the only sound was the small waves breaking on the shore around them. “Go back,” Zuko finally said. “Or go wherever you want to go. I’m not your problem.”

 

A few days ago, Katara might have scolded him, told him he was being ridiculous and resented his ingratitude for her help. But now, something gave her pause. Maybe it was the quiet resignation she’d begun to notice in his voice when he spoke about his isolation. Maybe her curiosity about his mysterious past was just winning out over her common sense. But she was starting to form the faintest outline in her mind of who Zuko from the big island really was, and it was enough to make her reconsider.

 

“You said it was because you were a firebender,” Katara said, her voice still low, a cautious overture. “But I don’t think that’s the only reason you wound up alone.”

 

Zuko looked her in the eye at last. “Right, because you know so much about me,” he said sarcastically, almost defiantly.

 

Well, he was right about that, but it was entirely his own fault. Katara let the jab slide. “I think you’re running away from something,” she pressed, not fully realizing herself the truth of her own words until she said them. His caginess wasn’t pride or paranoia, and it certainly wasn’t skillful secrecy. It was avoidance. There was something in his past he didn’t want to confront.

 

Zuko gave her one of his varied repertoire of glares, the one she recognized by now to mean that she was right and he didn’t want to admit it. “Well, what about you?” he shot back. “A southern waterbender all the way out here in the Earth Kingdom?” He spread his good arm wide, indicating the empty shoreline around them. “What are you trying to escape from?”

 

“I’m not running away from anything!” Katara protested, not liking how he had turned the conversation back on her. But was that really true? Amaruk’s schemes and Gran Gran’s judgemental looks and her father’s terse and infrequent letters - she hadn’t had to think about any of that in the refugee camp. It was no paradise she had run to - why would she do that if not to get away from something?

 

To help people, she reminded herself. That was all she had ever wanted, some way to use her gifts to help people who were in need - including Zuko, who needed to learn some manners just as much as he needed medical care, and apparently no one but her was going to help him with either.

 

“I’m not running away,” she said again, more firmly, crossing her arms as another gentle wave broke under their feet. “I have things I’m trying to do. Goals.” It wasn’t running away if you were working towards something.

 

“Well, I have a goal, too,” Zuko replied, a little too quickly.

 

“Really?” Katara asked skeptically. “What is it?”

 

“Tell me yours,” Zuko replied evasively.

 

“I asked you first,” Katara shot back, then flushed with anger and embarrassment at how childish they sounded. Based on the flush creeping across Zuko’s face, she’d say he had realized the same thing.

 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, looking away from her. “Dumb thing to argue about.” His shoulders had slumped and all the defiance had gone out of him. It was strange, how he seemed to have so much anger and bitterness built up inside him sometimes, and then he would just suddenly...deflate. Like sparks from a dying fire.

 

Katara pulled up a ribbon of water and twisted it idly through the air. “I just want to help,” she explained. “The spirits gave me the gift of bending, and whether it’s by fighting or healing, I just want to feel like I’m putting their gift to good use. That’s my goal.”

 

Zuko’s eyes traced the pattern her water made in the space between them. “You’re very lucky,” he said softly, “that the spirits gave you that.”

 

“I know,” Katara said self-consciously, holding the water still in the air. “But you’re a bender, too,” she demurred. “So the spirits gave you a gift as well.” She had never thought of firebending as something sacred before, but surely in the Fire Nation they must believe that.

 

But Zuko shook his head, eyes still fixed on her water. “Not me,” he said. “Nothing the spirits have given me is a blessing.”

 

He sounded so tragic, and so ominous, that Katara shuddered. Was he really spirits-cursed? Was that why he had been living alone in the wilderness? But in all the stories Katara had ever heard about people cursed by the spirits, they always had some mark to warn others away from them, like a withered hand, or…

 

Unwittingly, Katara glanced at the scar that covered nearly half of Zuko’s face. Even though he still wasn’t looking at her directly, Zuko flinched, as though he could feel her eyes on the warped flesh. Katara might not have been an expert healer like Kida, but she could certainly recognize a burn mark when she saw one.

 

“I’m sorry,” Katara said, because there was nothing else to say.

 

Zuko shrugged and turned away from her again, heading back up the shoreline towards where they had set up camp. “You’re right,” he admitted. “We should go to the village to get food.”

 

Katara followed him back to dry land, and though she didn’t say anything else about it, she didn’t miss the fact that if he really did have some goal in mind, he still hadn’t told her what it was.

 

* * *

 

_Fire Nation Colonies - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet_

 

Toph was familiar with the standing stones Sanjay had mentioned. They were on a hill a little ways back from the road leading out of the Moose Lion Gate - not the main southern road, which headed straight south from the Golden Gate towards the mountain pass, where it would turn east towards Omashu. This was a lesser-used road which tracked southeast towards the mining towns, and the lighter traffic going by was the first advantage of the meeting spot Sanjay had chosen.

 

The other advantage was that the stones themselves made a good vantage point to keep watch on the road without being observed themselves. About a hundred stone monoliths, some no more that three feet high, some as tall as trees, dotted the hilltop in irregular rows like the jagged teeth of a giant shark lizard. They had been erected ages ago - by the earth spirits themselves, according to some stories, or by the first earthbenders, according to others - but their meaning or purpose, if they’d ever had one, was lost to history.

 

Toph leaned against one of the larger stones, arms crossed, to wait. The waterbending woman took up a similar position against the stone opposite her, while the boy sat on the ground, legs sprawled and leaning back on his arms. The nonbender, the most taciturn of the rebel party, remained standing at attention, facing the road.

 

“Lord Moravid should have given you the swords back,” the boy said after a moment of awkward silence, tilting his head back to look at the nonbender.

 

The man shrugged. “I’ll make do, if it comes to that.”

 

“Well,” the boy - the Avatar - said, rolling his neck, then sitting up, folding his legs neatly, and leaning towards Toph. “I’m Aang.”

 

The woman shushed him, but Aang was undeterred. “Oh, come on, Katara!” he complained. “Our whole servant disguise was blown a long time ago!”

 

“Yeah, from about the moment I met you,” Toph agreed, picking absently at her fingernails. “How is my Uncle Kwon anyway?”

 

“You could have kept in touch with him yourself,” the woman - Katara - replied. “If you really wanted to know.”

 

“Yeah, that would have looked really good, Lady Moravid writing to a rebel general,” Toph said sarcastically, flicking away a speck of dirt she had dug out from under her thumbnail. “Some of us actually wanted our secret identities to stay secret.”

 

“So you’ve really been helping the rebels all along?” Aang asked, something akin to wonder in his voice. It was almost sweet, in a naive sort of way. “As the Bandit, I mean? Because I think that must be why I saw you in the swamp. The spirits were trying to tell me you were on our side.”

 

“Do the spirits talk to you often?” Toph deflected, not sure what swamp the boy was talking about or why he kept claiming to have seen some sort of vision of her. She heard Katara sigh exasperatedly.

 

“Well, yeah,” Aang said modestly. “It’s part of the whole Avatar thing.”

 

“Sure, just tell her everything,” the nonbender spoke up at last, still keeping his vigilant watch over the road. Toph could feel there was no one coming yet, but she hadn’t bothered to tell the others that.

 

“She figured it out,” Aang protested.

 

“Only because you used airbending,” Katara scolded him.

 

Aang shook his head, muttering something under his breath, but apparently tired of arguing. They lapsed into awkward silence once more, Katara now pacing between the stones while Aang poked at the soft grass underfoot. When he finally spoke again, he addressed Toph once more.

 

“Look, I’m sorry about Aruna,” the boy said softly. “It was a bad plan, the whole fake kidnapping thing. I wish we had come up with something better.”

 

Toph had begun to suspect that the kidnapping had been a front for something else, but she couldn’t imagine what it had been meant to accomplish. “Was it really his idea?” she asked. “Lord Moravid’s, I mean.” Her husband’s title felt stilted on her lips. Even at the height of her resentment towards him, she had never thought of him as anything other than Sanjay, the man she had chosen, and had once trusted.

 

“Well, yeah,” Aang confirmed. “He wanted to get her away from Jiro, obviously.”

 

“But why?” Toph pressed. It made no sense. Jiro was almost fanatically loyal to the Phoenix King, but until recently Toph had thought that was no cause for concern to her husband. She had visited her young sister-in-law once, shortly after they had first come to Penkou City, and the girl had showed no signs of fear in her uncle’s custody.

 

“Because she was his hostage, to make sure Lord Moravid cooperated with the Fire Nation,” Aang explained. “Didn’t you know?”

 

Toph balled her hands into fists, pushed herself off of the standing stone, and turned away from the boy. His hostage? Of course. The letter that had informed Sanjay he was to take his father’s place as governor...Toph had known it must have contained some other incentive. If Jiro had been using Aruna to ensure his compliance all along…

 

But the simple question remained: Why hadn’t Sanjay told her any of this?

 

At the periphery of her seismic sense, there was a flurry of movement - a small party of travelers approaching, mounted on ostrich horses. “Can you see who’s coming?” Toph asked the others.

 

Katara and Aang hurried to take up positions like their companion, watching the road. “It’s the governor,” Katara confirmed after a moment. “And I think that’s Aruna with him.”

 

In a few minutes, the party drew even with the standing stones, and came to a halt, the ostrich horses stomping and scratching at the base of the hill, the metal bits of their harnesses jingling. Sanjay dismounted, and started up the hill towards them, but Aruna and whoever else was with him stayed behind.

 

As he reached the crest of the hill, Toph stepped out from behind the stones. The Avatar and his companions did the same, but Sanjay approached her directly. “You waited,” he said.

 

“I’m following your lead,” Toph replied sarcastically.

 

“I want to send Aruna away for a while,” Sanjay said, ignoring the barb. He was speaking to the other three as much as to her now. “To my family’s estate in Gaoling, just to make sure my uncle can’t try anything else.”

 

“And you want us to escort her there?” the nonbender guessed. “One more favor, right?”

 

“That depends,” Sanjay replied. He removed something from the inside pocket of his tunic and handed it to the other man. “That’s all the information I promised to hand over to your general.” The other man took the object - it sounded like paper, probably a scroll - and Sanjay turned back to Toph. “I would prefer if _you_ went with Aruna.”

 

“So I can’t cause you any more trouble?” Toph asked.

 

There was another moment of awkward silence. Hashing out their grievances in front of the Avatar and his rebel friends was a bad idea, she knew, but Toph couldn’t bring herself to budge first.

 

“If you don’t mind, Avatar Aang,” Sanjay said politely. “I would like a word with my wife.”

 

“Oh, uh, sure,” Aang replied with a shrug. Katara actually took a step towards Toph, but Toph waved her away with one hand, and the three rebels withdrew to a discrete distance. Not satisfied, Toph retreated further into the labyrinth of standing stones, where the shadows from the tallest obelisks had kept the earth beneath her feet cool even in the growing warmth of the day.

 

“Your loyal Fire Nation colonial act was all a sham,” Toph said bluntly when they were alone.

 

“So was yours,” Sanjay pointed out. “So I guess that makes us both traitors and hypocrites.”

 

Toph brushed off his equivocation as easily as she would have deflected one of his earthbending forms. “You didn’t trust me,” she accused him. “This whole year, you dragged me up here and you never explained yourself! It was like…” She blinked furiously, trying to hold back the angry tears that had suddenly welled up. “It was like you left me floating in the middle of that lake, with no way to get my footing again.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Sanjay said. It wasn’t the response she had expected, so straightforward and earnest. He sounded like the man she had married again, the way he had been before his father died. “I hope you can find your way back to solid ground now.”

 

“Back in Gaoling, you mean?” Toph asked. “Without you?” The pathetic, needy question had slipped from her lips before she could stop it.

 

Sanjay was silent for a moment. “I’m sure you will be there for a while,” he said carefully. “Your health is so delicate, after all. The southern climate will be good for you. But perhaps I will be able to join you in the winter, when my duties here are few.”

 

It was a peace offering, and Toph was grateful for it. But it wasn’t an answer. “Just tell me why,” she pressed. “Why didn’t you trust me?”

 

Sanjay sighed, reached out, and took both of her hands. She could feel his pulse, steady as ever. “Because I was afraid,” he admitted. “The letter came from my uncle, my father was suddenly gone, my sister was in danger she couldn’t possibly imagine, and I...didn’t know what to do.”

 

Toph turned her hands over without breaking his grip, gently grasping his wrists. “Are you afraid now?”

 

“Yes,” Sanjay said softly, and entirely truthfully. For the first time in months, Toph was certain that he wasn’t hiding anything from her.

 

Well, she might as well push her luck. “Is that why you want me to go?”

 

“Partially,” Sanjay replied, looking down at their clasped hands. “I also think...there must have been something to the Avatar’s vision. The spirits have been leading him to you.” He hesitated for a moment, then looked back up. “But that’s something we should discuss with the others.”

 

She didn’t want to let him go. Things were hardly settled between them. But this wasn’t just between the two of them. It hadn’t been for a long time. “Ok,” she said, reluctantly releasing her grip on his wrists, and he let go of her hands with just as little enthusiasm. She followed him back into the warmer, sunnier outskirts of the maze of ancient stones, where the Avatar was waiting.

 

The three rebels had clearly been in the midst of a hushed conversation of their own when Toph and Sanjay rejoined them. “Alright,” she said, feeling a little defensive. “What did this swamp vision supposedly tell you about me?”

 

“Let’s not put too much weight on swamp visions,” Katara cautioned, with a tired sort of tone that indicated this was probably an argument she’d had with Aang many times already.

 

“I’m not putting too much on it!” Aang insisted, confirming Toph’s suspicion. “I don’t claim to know exactly why,” he went on, facing Toph directly. “But clearly we were supposed to meet.”

 

“You haven’t figured out why?” Sanjay asked, surprised. All three rebels turned to him.

 

“You have?” the nonbender asked.

 

“The Avatar seems to have mastered waterbending,” Sanjay explained. “He needs to learn earthbending next, does he not?” No one answered his rhetorical question, and Sanjay shrugged. “So naturally the spirits led him to the greatest earthbender there is.”

 

The flattery was a bit much, Toph thought. She could understand his reasoning, though, even if there was an obvious problem with what he was suggesting. “You think the Avatar should learn earthbending from the wife of a Fire Nation governor?”

 

Sanjay looked at Katara for a moment, then the other rebel whose name Toph still hadn’t caught, before he replied. “It’s no stranger than him learning waterbending from the wife of a Fire Nation prince.”

 

The response from all three rebels was one of quiet alarm, but no one spoke a word of protest. Well, today was full of surprises. Toph pointed accusingly at Katara. “You’re the waterbender that married Prince Zuko?” That tale had been one of the favorite bits of gossip in the entire Earth Kingdom - the ferocity with which the Fire Nation had tried to silence all talk of their erstwhile prince only making it more sensational.

 

But Katara barely acknowledged Toph’s question, and it was the anonymous rebel who replied to Sanjay. “You knew all along,” he said.

 

“Smellerbee mentioned your name,” Sanjay explained cooly. “Incidentally, you might be surprised at the number of seditious pamphlets in your favor I’ve had to suppress in the past year.”

 

“ _That’s_ Prince Zuko?” Toph asked in disbelief. “You snuck the Avatar _and_ the Fire Nation’s traitor prince into the city right under the Fire Lord’s nose?” In spite of herself, she was beginning to be impressed with her husband’s capacity for duplicity. As long as he wasn’t using it against her anymore…

 

“I didn’t know the Fire Lord was coming,” Sanjay said modestly. “But now that we’re all on the same page, are we agreed on what happens now?”

 

“I escort Aruna to Gaoling, the Avatar and his royal friends bring your information to my uncle, then they join us in Gaoling so I can teach him earthbending?” Toph summarized. It certainly sounded better than staying in Penkou City to keep up the charade of the sickly Lady Moravid for the next few months. As for what would happen after that, they would have to cross that bridge when they came to it. “I’m on board if they are,” she agreed, inclining her head towards the Avatar.

 

Aang looked between Katara and Zuko, like a child waiting for his parents to give permission. “That...does actually skirt the problem,” Zuko said softly, more for Katara’s ears than anyone else, but of course Toph had very good hearing.

 

“She’s the General’s niece,” Katara said just as softly. Of all things Toph would have expected her to object to, that wasn’t it.

 

“But she’s taken no position on the Earth King question,” Zuko pointed out. Of course it was politics. There was no escaping from politics, was there?

 

“So you agree?” Aang said eagerly. “She can teach me?”

 

“We have to report to General Kwon first,” Zuko said firmly. “But after that we can go back to Gaoling.”

 

“Yes!” Aang shouted, punching the air in triumph. “Earthbending, here I come!”

 

There were a few practical details to sort out after that, but soon enough the three rebels were setting out on their way to Omashu. The other ostrich horses Sanjay had brought turned out to be for them. Her husband seemed to be in a generous mood.

 

Toph hung back a moment with Sanjay, before she joined Aruna to set out on their own journey to Gaoling. “You haven’t changed your mind about Jet, have you,” she said resignedly. She hadn’t wanted to bring it up in front of Aang, who was really just a kid, Avatar or not. But she couldn’t just forget about the man she had set out to liberate only yesterday. “Is he really that bad?”

 

“I’m afraid so,” Sanjay replied. “He may have started out as an idealist, but now he’s just a danger to everyone.”

 

“Even if the Bandit promises to leave him where he is?” Toph tried half-heartedly, knowing the inevitable answer.

 

“Jiro would have handed him over to be executed once he realized he had no use for him,” Sanjay explained. Toph knew this was true - a man like Jet would never have turned informant, and had little value as a hostage. “Your rescue attempt has only hastened what was going to happen anyway.”

 

Toph nodded, feeling pity for the poor bastard, but understanding Sanjay’s position. Jet had to die, that much was clear. Let that be a lesson to her about the risks of playing vigilante - the risks she was still taking, agreeing to train the Avatar.

 

But at least she was no longer taking them alone.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter - The Mothering Heart - Friday, December 21st


	24. The Mothering Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Upon returning to Gaoling, Toph gets some unwelcome maternal advice, and Zuko gets some surprising news. In the past, if Azula knows anything, it's what a power play looks like.

**Book II: Earth**

 

**Chapter 6: The Mothering Heart**

 

_ Gaoling, South-Western Earth Kingdom - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

Returning to Sanjay’s villa in Gaoling was as bittersweet as Toph had known it would be. The house had stood mostly empty since their abrupt departure a year earlier, only the groundskeeper and his wife and daughters left to look after the place. The odd circumstances of Toph and Aruna’s journey south this spring had meant they had brought no additional servants with them - but as Toph was not planning on entertaining during their time in Gaoling, she knew they would get by just fine with the skeleton staff.

 

But it was strange to be back there without Sanjay, when the happy memories of the all-too-brief honeymoon period of their early marriage were all associated with this place. She had even gone back to the lake in the mountains once, by herself, and found it as peaceful as ever, but without Sanjay there she hadn’t bothered to wade more than knee-deep in the water.

 

Aruna, for her part, had shown remarkable resilience in how quickly she had overcome the shock of her staged kidnapping and adjusted to her new circumstances. The girl really had had no idea that her uncle had been using her as a hostage, but she trusted her older brother so completely that his word that she would be safe with Toph in Gaoling was enough to give her peace of mind.

 

But while keeping her young sister-in-law occupied while they waited for the Avatar to join them was challenge enough for Toph - Aruna was not an earthbender, and preferred pastimes such as needlework at which Toph was useless - she soon found herself with another guest on her hands. For no amount of insistence that Lady Moravid was not receiving visitors could keep Poppy Bei Fong away from her daughter.

 

She arrived at the Moravid villa three days later with a full company of servants and baggage in tow, clearly intending to stay for a while. “Won’t Dad be missing you?” Toph asked pointedly as her mother’s elderly maid, Basma, bustled around the guest room unpacking clothes and other personal items.

 

“Your father is attending to business in Omashu,” Poppy replied. “And since I haven’t seen my only daughter in a year, I thought it would be nice for us to have a chance to catch up.”

 

Toph didn’t miss her mother’s pointed tone, but she wasn’t a child anymore. Her mother had nothing to hold over her. She was done playing negotiating games.

 

Still, the last year had been...lonely.

 

“Alright,” Toph said, looping one arm around her mother’s and leading her out of the room, leaving Basma behind to keep fussing with her baggage. “Let’s catch up. How are things in Gaoling these days?”

 

“Well,” Poppy said, letting her daughter lead her towards the gardens in the courtyard. “I must say things have been more pleasant in town ever since the last of the soldiers cleared out.”

 

Toph gave a short laugh. “I’m surprised you even noticed,” she said as they stepped out of the shaded colonnade into the courtyard. The earth was already warm beneath her feet in the morning sun. “You never cared much about the war.”

 

“Perhaps I’m taking an interest now,” her mother replied defensively.

 

“No, you’re not,” Toph insisted, hearing the lie for what it was. She let go of her mother’s arm and sat on the low stone bench by the panda lilies, tracing circles in the dirt with her bare toes underneath the plain skirt of her day dress.

 

“Well there’s not much to say about me at any rate,” Poppy deflected, sitting next to her and clasping her hands anxiously. “Tell me how  _ you’ve _ been, Toph.”

 

Miserable, was her first thought, followed by stressed out, confused, and angry. “Fine,” was what she said.

 

Poppy gave an exasperated sigh, like she used to do when Toph pushed back against her strict rules as a child. “You know, at first I thought you were just being cheeky,” she said sharply. “Using your delicate health as an excuse to shirk your social responsibilities seemed like just the sort of thing you would do to get back at me for whatever fault you found in your upbringing. That’s why I didn’t acknowledge it.”

 

Toph hung her head, not at all in the mood to hear this scolding. “Mom..” she protested weakly.

 

“But,” her mother went on regardless, “you’ve carried on this way far too long for it to be a mere joke. And now you’ve come back here, without your husband, just when it seems most implausible that a Fire Nation governor would send his wife off to what they’re now calling the Free Earth Kingdom. Which means…” Here she finally paused, taking a steadying breath. “Either you really are dangerously ill, which you certainly don’t appear to be, or something else is wrong. In any case, things are  _ not _ fine.”

 

Toph had screwed her eyes shut as her mother came to the end of her tirade. There was a tense moment of silence, as her mother apparently waited for her to say something.

 

“Okay,” Toph admitted in a low voice. “Things aren’t fine.” She left it at that, waiting for her mother to take over the conversation again, probably with all kinds of advice about all the things Toph was surely doing wrong.

 

“Would you care to elaborate?” her mother prompted instead.

 

Toph shrugged, finding a loose pebble with her toes and crushing it into dust with a twist of her foot. “I don’t know,” she said reluctantly. “I haven’t really had anyone to talk to.”

 

“Then talk to me now,” her mother said, reaching over to take hold of her hand with surprising gentleness. “A young woman should always be able to confide in her mother.” She paused, and with her firm grip on her hand Toph could easily feel the anxiousness behind her hesitation. “Especially if there are...the sort of difficulties that may arise with a husband…”

 

It took a moment for her meaning to sink in, but when it did, Toph’s useless eyes flew open wide, her face growing hot. “Mom, no!” she protested. “I mean, no, that’s not the reason…” There might not have been anything in the way of...intimacy in her marriage for a long time, but that was a side-effect of the real problem, not the cause.

 

“Well, I don’t know,” her mother replied, just as flustered as she felt. “But it has been a year, and there’s still no child. Unless…” She trailed off hopefully.

 

Letting go of her mother’s hand, Toph pressed her forehead to her palms and groaned. “No, I’m not pregnant,” she said, refusing to feel the slightest hint of guilt at her mother’s obvious disappointment on that score. “And no, it’s not... _ that _ kind of problem. It’s just...politics.” That was an understatement so severe that Toph would have called anyone who tried it with her a liar, but fortunately her mother did not possess her seismic sense.

 

“I see,” Poppy said cooly. “Politics. An area in which, as you’ve already made clear, you believe I am useless.”

 

Before she could think of a retort, the slightest movement at the edge of the courtyard caught her attention. Great, she thought, how long had the girl been standing there while Toph had been distracted by this awful conversation? “It’s not polite to eavesdrop, Aruna,” she called out irritably.

 

Guiltily, the girl came forward. “Sorry, Toph,” she said, then dropped a demure curtsy to her mother. “Madame Bei Fong.” She held something out in Toph’s direction. “A letter came for you.”

 

Toph made no move to take the rolled-up paper. Normally, she relied on Ling to assist her with her correspondence, but Ling had been left behind in Penkou City thanks to their abrupt departure. She wasn’t sure who she trusted to do the job here. Maybe Basma.

 

“Would you like me to read that for you?” her mother offered delicately.

 

“It’s, ah,” Aruna stammered, drawing the letter back a little. “It’s from your friends in Omashu.”

 

That had to mean the Avatar. “You can read it to me, then, Aruna,” Toph said. She certainly hoped her uncle’s people would be discrete enough not to openly say anything compromising in a letter, but better to play it safe and keep the circle closed on that front. Aruna already knew everything.

 

“I didn’t know you had friends in Omashu,” her mother commented suspiciously. And it was true, she never had.

 

“Aruna’s being glib,” Toph replied. “They’re not really my friends, they’re Sanjay’s. I’m helping him sort out a delicate situation they’re in.” It wasn’t exactly a lie, so Toph decided to push her luck. “You know, since the city was liberated and all…”

 

“Alright, alright, more politics,” her mother said, taking the hint and getting to her feet. “I’ll leave you to it.” And though Toph knew better than to think that was the end of her mother’s prying, she was relieved to feel her go, for the time being.

 

“Okay, what’s the letter say?” Toph asked once she was sure her mother was out of earshot and no one else was around.

 

Aruna broke the seal and unrolled the paper, reading silently to herself for a moment. “I guess their general has agreed to the plan,” she summarized. “It says they should be here in a day or so.”

 

Toph nodded. That was good news, though she wasn’t sure how they were going to manage traveling so quickly. Omashu to Gaoling was at least three days’ ride by ostrich horse. But the way Aruna shifted nervously concerned her more. “Will you be alright with them here?”

 

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll be fine,” Aruna insisted, unconvincingly. It couldn’t be easy for her to have the people who had tried to kidnap her coming to stay under the same roof indefinitely, even knowing that they had in fact never meant her any harm. “I’ll just...have to stay out of your way, when you’re teaching the Avatar to earthbend, is all.” With that, the girl made her excuses, and left the courtyard.

 

Toph wondered if that was what she sounded like to her mother.

 

* * *

 

_ Fire Nation Capital - Seventeen Years Earlier _

 

Azula hadn’t been allowed to go to the promotion ceremony for the new captains in the navy. It wasn’t an event for children, according to her mother, and her father refused to let her miss her firebending lessons that morning. Against such a unified front of parental authority, Azula was powerless.

 

But when Ozai came to inspect her progress and Zuko’s that afternoon, she barraged him with questions. How many captains had been promoted? What ships had they been assigned? Were they strong men and women who would serve the Fire Nation with honor?

 

Her father patiently answered each question as she demonstrated her firebending forms. He always encouraged Azula’s interest in military affairs, even though Mother didn’t approve. Zuko, for his part, kept quiet. He had to concentrate hard not to mess up the new form they were learning - Azula had long since caught up to her brother’s two-year head start - but she knew he was also less interested. If their father let him, Zuko would spend all his free time reading stories about the spirits and playing the flute. He had so little ambition.

 

But even Zuko looked impressed when Ozai described the new captains kneeling before Fire Lord Azulon to renew their oath of loyalty. Azula could just picture the scene - the admiral looking on as the captains pressed their foreheads to the floor, the darkness of the audience chamber illuminated only by the flames before the great throne - but in her imagination it was not Grandfather who sat behind the flames, and it was not Azulon’s name to which the captains pledged their allegiance.

 

“Will they take command of their ships right away?” Azula asked as she finished the new form, Zuko just a half step out of synch behind her.

 

“Most of them will,” Ozai replied. He frowned, but his displeasure was not directed at her. “Zuko,” he said sternly, and her dumb-dumb brother actually perked up as if he expected to be praised. “Your timing is all wrong. How will you ever complete the form correctly when you have not even mastered the opening stance?”

 

Zuko’s face fell, and Azula stifled a giggle. “Sorry, Father,” he said, eyes downcast.

 

“I expect you will do better next time,” Ozai replied with a nod. “As for you, Azula,” he said, and Azula also stood up a little straighter when his attention shifted to her. “Your execution was flawless. I will speak to your teacher about starting you on some more advanced forms.”

 

“Thank you, Father,” Azula said with a polite bow, feeling like she would burst with pride. She was moving on to more advanced firebending while Zuko still needed to work on the basics! She had not just equaled, but surpassed her brother!

 

Ozai turned to leave the training room, and the gloating words were on the tip of Azula’s tongue when he said offhandedly, “One of the new captains will be joining us for dinner tonight. I trust you will make a good impression.”

 

“Yes, Father,” Azula and Zuko replied in perfect harmony.

 

Ozai nodded again, and left them alone.

 

Azula turned back to her brother, grinning with elation. “I could help you out with your stances, Zuzu,” she said sweetly.

 

Zuko glared at her. “I don’t need your help,” he insisted. “I’ll figure it out on my own and do it even better than you, just wait.”

 

“Okay,” Azula said with a shrug, knowing she wasn’t going to let that happen. By the time Zuko figured out his footwork at this rate, she would probably be a master firebender already. She watched him stalk a few paces away from her angrily and start the kata again, as sloppy as ever. She almost felt sorry for him. “I was just trying to be nice.”

 

Zuko muttered something about that being a lie, and Azula left him be. She had a music lesson next, but as she struggled through her scales on the pipa her mind was elsewhere, wondering about the captain who would join them for dinner that evening. Her mother would probably try to keep the conversation light, asking him about his family and did he have any hobbies and other boring small talk stuff like that, but if she was lucky, her father would at least want to discuss more interesting subjects.

 

When her lessons were done for the day, Azula returned to her room. Her mother came soon with one of her attendants to help her get ready for dinner. Normally Azula’s day clothes would be good enough for a private family meal, but since they would have a guest tonight, she would have to dress up. The attendant, an old woman named Basma, rifled through her wardrobe to find a few suitable options, while Ursa picked up the hairbrush from the top of Azula’s dressing table and sat on the edge of the bed, gesturing for Azula to come sit next to her.

 

“You have such lovely hair,” her mother commented as she undid the ribbons holding her neat topknot in place. Azula closed her eyes as Ursa gently brushed out her hair, even though there were hardly any knots in it. Her mother knew that she liked having her hair brushed, and it was moments like this that Azula liked best, when they didn’t have to argue about what was and was not appropriate for a young lady.

 

Ursa gathered up the top layer of Azula’s hair and tied it off with a new ribbon, leaving the rest down, rather like how she wore her own hair. “There,” she said, running her fingers through the loose locks one last time. “Now, what are you going to wear?”

 

Basma presented her with three choices - the first was a flouncy pink dress that Azula wrinkled her nose at. Her mother had bought that for her on their last trip to Ember Island, but Azula never liked wearing it. “Can I wear this one?” she asked, pointing to the second option that Basma had laid out, which was bright red and gold.

 

“I think that’s a little too nice,” Ursa replied gently. It was the dress she had worn for Lu Ten’s official send off to join Uncle Iroh in the Earth Kingdom, where they were advancing on Ba Sing Se. “This one will do nicely, though, don’t you think?” Ursa suggested, holding up the third option.

 

This dress was a deeper shade of red, less flashy, but it had a longer skirt, like a grown-up set of court robes. Azula did like that, so she agreed and let Basma help her put it on while her mother returned the other two dresses to the wardrobe.

 

“Ready to go?” Ursa asked when Basma had fastened the last button closed. Azula nodded, slipping her hands into her pockets. To her surprise, her fingers closed around something hard wrapped in paper. When her mother’s back was turned, she furtively removed the object - it was a piece of her favorite ginger candy. She stole a glance at Basma, who gave her a conspiratorial wink. Azula answered her with a little smile, quickly hiding the candy in her pocket again.

 

Ozai and Zuko were already in the dining room when Azula and Ursa got there. Zuko was in a much better mood than he had been after the firebending demonstration, and Azula wondered if their father had said something conciliatory to cheer him up. It didn’t seem likely, but she never knew how Ozai acted towards Zuko when she wasn’t around. She gave him a suspicious look as she took her seat next to her brother, but Ozai didn’t seem to notice.

 

A servant ushered their guest into the room, a man who looked not much older than Lu Ten. Like her cousin, the young captain wore sideburns, though his were not as neatly trimmed. There was a look of something like ferocity in his eye as well, the overall effect reminding Azula of an illustration she had seen of an arctic wolf. But he bowed to her father with perfectly polished court manners.

 

“Captain Zhao,” Ozai acknowledged him, gesturing for him to take his seat on the opposite side of the table from where he and Ursa sat. This placed him just across the corner from Azula.

 

“Thank you for your gracious invitation, Prince Ozai,” Zhao said smoothly. Azula continued to study him with fascination as the servants brought in the first course of the meal. He was wearing his dress uniform, with no armor, but the brand new gold insignia shone brightly on his shoulders. 

 

She pictured him at the bridge of one of the new warships that were waiting in the harbor, which her father had taken her and Zuko to see a few weeks ago. Ozai had lifted each of them up in turn to look through the captain’s scope. She hadn’t even been able to see as far as the Gates of Azulon, but she had known that that way lay the Earth Kingdom, which meant conquest and glory. And now, here at the table next to her was a man who would soon be in the heart of all that.

 

As she had predicted, the conversation consisted of nothing but pleasantries among the adults, Zuko and Azula maintaining the deferent silence that was expected of them, until the first course was cleared away. But as the main course was brought in - a dish of grilled octopus, not one of Azula’s favorites - Zhao turned his attention to the children.

 

“Princess Azula,” he said with a friendly but calculated smile, an expression Azula was not unfamiliar with herself. “Your father tells me you are quite the prodigious young firebender.”

 

Azula’s own grin was more genuine. Her father had actually spoken to the new captain about her! “I have mastered all the basic forms,” she said modestly, inclining her head in recognition of the compliment. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Zuko slouch in his seat.

 

“At your age, that is no small accomplishment,” Zhao replied. Then he lifted his wine cup in salute to her father. “But the bloodline of Agni’s anointed has always produced powerful benders.”

 

Azula’s eyes shot to her father, who also wore a satisfied smile. “So it has,” he agreed, and Azula blinked in astonishment. If Zhao had really meant what his words implied, and her father had not disputed it...she glanced at Zuko, but he was too busy poking glumly at his food with his chopsticks to take note of the possible political intrigue happening before their eyes.

 

“Prince Zuko is also a very talented musician,” Ursa spoke up, and Azula had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes at the banal change of subject. “Just like his father,” she added with a pointed look at Ozai.

 

Zuko hardly reacted to their mother’s praise, but Ozai apparently understood whatever Ursa had meant him to. “Do you have children of your own, Captain Zhao?” he asked, going along with the return to polite and much less interesting conversation.

 

“No,” Zhao replied. “I am not married.”

 

“You have been very focused on your naval career, undoubtedly,” Ursa said. Across the table, she met Azula’s eyes, then glanced pointedly at her still untouched food. Reluctantly obedient, Azula took a bite. It was cooked perfectly, but she was just never going to enjoy the taste of octopus.

 

“Spreading the glory of the Fire Nation to the rest of the world is a fine thing to dedicate one’s life to,” Ozai was saying. “But I believe there is no honor to compare to having a child one can be proud of.” He was looking at Azula as he said it, and she didn’t miss his use of the singular  _ child _ . Judging by the way Zuko slouched further and the corners of Ursa’s mouth turned downward, neither had they. But her mother could hardly reprimand him in front of their guest.

 

“I will take your word as one who would know,” Zhao replied, and he too looked at Azula as he spoke. 

 

Ursa redirected the conversation again after that, and Azula returned her attention to her food. Nothing would ever make her enjoy the taste of octopus, but this dinner had already been well worth it.

 

* * *

 

_ Gaoling, South-Western Earth Kingdom - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

Aang had insisted on bringing Appa to Gaoling, and with the town now fully out from under Fire Nation influence, it was hard to argue with the advantage of speed the flying bison would give them in getting there. The Moravid villa, like most of the well-to-do homes in Gaoling, was outside the town itself, with ample grounds and a large stable, so Appa would be easy enough to accomodate.

 

Unfortunately, Zuko hadn’t been able to think of any effective way to communicate this in their coded letter to Lady Moravid. The groundskeeper’s dumbfounded look of astonishment when they landed made him realize he probably should have tried harder.

 

“Is that…” the old groundskeeper said in disbelief as they climbed down from the bison’s saddle.

 

“A flying bison?” Aang supplied helpfully. “Sure is!” He patted Appa’s flank with pride, and the bison gave a low bellow, as if in greeting. A few clumps of white fur came off with each pat - the bison was in the middle of his spring shed, Aang had explained to them on the way here.

 

“I guess I’ll go...clear out some space for him...” the groundskeeper replied, shaking his head and heading towards the stables.

 

“Alright,” Aang said, eagerly darting towards the villa’s front gate with Zuko and Katara trailing behind him. “Earthbending time!”

 

But the servant who greeted them, an elderly woman who gave Zuko a suspicious look, insisted on showing them to their rooms to “freshen up” before they went to meet Lady Moravid on the terrace. Zuko could take the hint - loose bison fur clung to all of their clothes, and they probably smelled like it. While months of travelling off and on with Appa had accustomed him to the scent, he didn’t begrudge the old maid for assuming her mistress would find it offensive.

 

The guest rooms were as sumptuous as the rest of the villa, which more than lived up to Lord Moravid’s house in Penkou City. Though they didn’t have time to bask in the luxury just then, Zuko didn’t miss the longing look Katara gave the large soaking tub in their bathroom. “Waterbenders,” he muttered teasingly as she sighed went to the shallow water basin that was laid out on a wooden table to wash up instead.

 

Katara responded by flicking a few large drops of water at him over her shoulder. They caught him square in the face.

 

“Now that’s not fair,” Zuko protested, wiping his face with his sleeve. “No bending at me when I can’t fight back.” He pulled off the dark green tunic he’d acquired in Omashu, intending to change back into his own Water Tribe clothing. As Katara dried her face and hands with a very soft-looking cotton towel, Zuko stepped up beside her and bent over the basin to wash up as well.

 

The contents of the basin promptly splashed up at him as if of their own accord, cold water soaking his hair and running in rivulets down his chest and back.

 

“Katara!” he complained, giving her a glare as he stood up straight and flicked wet hair out of his eyes. But he couldn’t really be angry with the look of utterly wicked delight on her face.

 

“What are you going to do about it?” Katara taunted, hands on her hips.

 

With lightning-quick reflexes, Zuko grabbed the basin and dumped the rest of the water over her head. Katara let out a yelp of surprise, holding up the towel that was still clutched in one hand as a useless shield, even though she could have easily bended the water away.

 

They both stood there dripping on the tile floor for a moment, and then both burst out laughing. Katara collapsed against his chest, and Zuko, still holding the basin in his left hand, caught her with his right arm. Carefully setting the porcelain basin back on the table, he held her until their laughter had subsided. “Okay,” Katara said, tilting her head up to give him a quick kiss. “I had that coming.”

 

Katara bended the water off of them and back into the basin where it belonged, and Zuko headed back into the bedroom of their guest suite, where he had left his pack. It was too hot to wear his dark blue undershirt, so he only put on the short-sleeved light blue tunic. But he made a point to wrap a strip of grey fabric around his right forearm, covering the lightning scar.

 

Katara had changed into a blue dress as well, and she gave him a concerned look as he tied off his arm brace. “You know you don’t have to do that,” she reminded him, not for the first time.

 

Zuko shrugged. “It’s a weird scar,” he said, giving his usual excuse. With the war having gone on for generations, plenty of people had been burned and bore scars like the one on his face. He didn’t know of anyone else who had been hit by lightning and survived - and it probably would have looked more like the mark on his chest if they had. 

 

Katara knew the real reason he preferred to keep it covered, of course - he would always see the day of Sozin’s Comet as the day of his greatest failure. But before she could say anything else about it, there was a knock at the door.

 

“Are you guys ready?” came Aang’s eager voice from the corridor.

 

Shaking her head, Katara went to open the door. “Yeah, we’re ready.”

 

“Great, because Lady Moravid’s waiting for us,” said Aang, who had changed back into his yellow and orange Air Nomad clothes. They were all dropping their disguises, at least somewhat. It was a relief to be out of the colonies and back in the safety of the Free Earth Kingdom, as people had taken to calling everything south of the mountains. Even Gaoling seemed much more secure now that the token presence of Fire Nation soldiers had been cleared out.

 

The three of them found their way to the terrace with some assistance from the same elderly servant. She was more subtle about it this time, but she still gave Zuko a strange look, and he had the oddest feeling that he had seen her somewhere before.

 

He had been unable to place her face by the time they found Lady Moravid. The young woman was seated at a low table, where a tea service was laid out, along with soft green cushions for them to sit on. Though the terrace afforded a sweeping view of the mountains, Lady Moravid sat with her back to it, her pale eyes staring sightlessly ahead of her. Zuko also noticed that she was sitting cross-legged not on a cushion, but directly on the tile floor. Remembering Aang’s theory about how she used her earthbending to “see”, Zuko supposed that made sense.

 

At any rate, she was certainly aware of their presence. “Please, sit,” she said, gesturing to the cushions. They obeyed, and Lady Moravid nudged the teapot towards Katara. “Help yourselves, I’ll just make a mess of it if I try to pour,” she said, waving one hand in front of her face by way of explanation.

 

“Thank you,” Katara said, accepting the teapot and pouring cups for Aang, Zuko, and herself. The tea was still hot, so Lady Moravid couldn’t have been waiting here too long.

 

“So when can we start earthbending?” Aang asked eagerly as he took the cup Katara handed him.

 

“Straight to business, huh, kid?” Lady Moravid said in a surprisingly jocular tone. So far she had been the picture of an aristocratic young woman, but now Zuko was reminded that she was also a dangerous outlaw. She set down her own teacup and leaned with folded arms on the table, the sort of posture Zuko remembered being scolded for as a child, and knew Lady Moravid would have been as well. “There’s just one minor setback to our plan. My mother’s here.”

 

“And she doesn’t know you’ve agreed to train the Avatar?” Katara guessed.

 

“No,” Lady Moravid confirmed. “And I’d like to keep it that way, if we can.”

 

“But she’s General Kwon’s sister, isn’t she?” Aang asked in confusion. He looked to Zuko for confirmation, and he nodded. “If she’s still on good terms with him while he’s leading the resistance, would she really object to you helping us?”

 

“It’s not that she’d object to  _ you _ , so much as to  _ me _ getting involved,” Lady Moravid explained. “Trust me on this - it’s better if we leave her out of it.”

 

“So what does that mean for Aang’s earthbending training?” Zuko asked. If they’d come all this way only for her to change her mind…

 

“My mother will be leaving in a few days,” Lady Moravid replied placatingly. “All I’m saying is we’ll hold off on any training until then.”

 

Zuko glanced at Katara, who shrugged. It was a reasonable request. “Alright,” he agreed. Aang sighed, his disappointment evident, but Zuko knew the boy could stand to be patient for a few more days. “What do we do in the meantime?”

 

“In the meantime, you’re just friends of my husband, visiting from Omashu,” Lady Moravid said with a conspiratorial grin. “My mother won’t question it.”

 

They spent a little while longer discussing their cover stories - it was decided that they would use their Gaoling code names for the duration of Madame Bei Fong’s visit - and Lady Moravid suggested some rudimentary exercises Aang could try on his own. She also recommended they explore the wooded hills around the villa, which would give Aang and Katara cover if they wanted to practice waterbending.

 

To Zuko’s surprise, Lady Moravid also requested that they address her by her given name, Toph. “It will help sell the old friends story,” she pointed out practically, but Zuko couldn’t help wondering if she was less than happy with using her husband’s name at the moment. They hadn’t pried into the drama between the Moravids, but he doubted it had all been resolved in one brief conversation.

 

“There’s one other thing,” Lady Moravid - Toph - said when their plans for the next few days were worked out. “I suspect Aruna will be giving you a wide berth anyway, but do me a favor and stay out of her way.”

 

“Of course,” Katara said sympathetically, while Zuko nodded in understanding. It only made sense that the girl would be uneasy about their presence. Aang guiltily muttered his agreement as well.

 

They didn’t get the chance to further discuss what had happened back in Penkou city, however, for the old woman who had directed them to the terrace reappeared, accompanied by a younger girl who bore such a resemblance to the groundskeeper that she had to be his daughter. Toph informed them that it was time for her to dress for dinner, and left with the girl, leaving the old woman behind with instructions to attend to “Lee” and “Kya” and their nephew.

 

But the old woman, once they were alone, only stared at Zuko again, not quite suspicious this time but almost...hopeful? “Lee is not your real name, is it?” she spoke in a hushed but resolute tone.

 

“What makes you say that?” Zuko demurred, folding his arms casually. It certainly wasn’t the first time someone had questioned his pseudonym, but confidence could usually allay most suspicions.

 

This woman, however, was not deterred. “I’d recognize you for  _ his _ son anywhere,” she replied. “Even with the scar.”

 

Zuko felt his stomach turn over at the unexpected reply, and Katara edged closer to him, but the old woman made no move. She hadn’t said it like an accusation, and she certainly didn’t seem like a threat. “You think you knew his father?” Katara asked carefully.

 

“I used to work for his mother,” the old woman said wistfully, never taking her eyes off Zuko. “Before his grandfather died.”

 

Zuko studied the old woman as carefully as she had studied him, trying to remember the faces of his mother’s servants. It was so long ago. But now that he thought of it, there was one of her ladies in waiting, the one who used to slip him and Azula candies when their mother wasn’t looking... “Basma,” he said softly, remembering her name at last.

 

“Prince Zuko,” she said in reply, and knelt, pressing her forehead to the floor in a deep bow.

 

“Don’t do that,” he hissed, glancing around cautiously as Katara hurried forward and pulled the woman to her feet. Even as a supposed friend of Lord Moravid and guest of his family, Lee from Omashu didn’t deserve such reverence. But there was no one else around except for a very confused looking Aang.

 

Basma’s eyes were shining with tears now, and she clung to Katara as if needing the support. “Your father sent us all away, all your mother’s servants, immediately after…” She trailed off, shaking her head, and Zuko didn’t blame her for finding the subject difficult to speak of. “But I swore, if I ever saw you or your sister again, I’d tell you the truth.”

 

“The truth about what?” Zuko asked, as Katara looked with wide eyes between him and Basma. Did this woman know something about his mother’s disappearance? Had the answers he’d given up hope of ever finding been here in Gaoling all along?

 

“Even your lady mother didn’t know that I knew,” the old woman said, shaking her head again nervously. “No one was supposed to know why she was banished…”

 

“She was banished?” Katara asked sharply. Zuko couldn’t find his voice. Was it really possible? Could his mother still be alive somewhere?

 

“Yes,” Basma sobbed pitifully, looking at Katara instead. She seemed to find her easier to talk to, and her words flowed more freely. “What my lady had done should have been punished with death, but the Fire Lord spared her…”

 

“What  _ she _ had done?” Zuko interrupted weakly, taking an involuntary step back. Katara gestured hurriedly for Aang - now looking even more lost - to come take Basma off her hands. The boy awkwardly took the old woman by the arm, and patted her shoulder in an attempt at comfort, while Katara came to Zuko’s side and grabbed hold of his hand.

 

He realized, as her fingers closed around his, that his hands were shaking. He wanted so badly to know what had happened to his mother, but all these years later… He had grown used to living with the pain of not knowing, barely even acknowledged it anymore with so many more immediate concerns. Now, unexpectedly faced with the prospect of  _ knowing _ , who could say what new pain of its own that might bring?

 

Katara was still holding his left hand in both of hers, drawn up close to her heart. He met her eyes, and knew she understood. She gave him the slightest nod of encouragement, and that was all he needed. “What had she done?” he asked Basma, the strength returning to his voice.

 

“On my honor, I’ve never told a soul,” Basma swore, her hands joined together in a gesture of supplication. She looked like she would have fallen to her knees again if Aang hadn’t held her up. “I heard them arguing about it, but I never told anyone before...But you should know, you have the right.” Scrubbing away her tears, the old woman took a deep breath and collected herself. “It was your mother who killed Fire Lord Azulon, to protect you. Your father knew somehow, but he sentenced her to exile rather than death.”

 

Zuko’s heart was pounding. “Why?” he breathed. “Why would he do that? I thought he hated her…” Basma’s story raised so many questions, but what would compel his father to show  _ mercy _ was the most pressing of all.

 

“Because your lady mother was with child,” Basma explained.

 

“What?” Zuko exclaimed. There was a strange echo to his voice, and it took him a moment to realize that Aang and Katara had both spoken in unison with him. The stillness of the fresh spring air and the warmth of the late afternoon sun only made this conversation all the more surreal.

 

“She hadn’t told me!” Basma said hastily, shaking her head again. The old woman was verging on hysterics now. “Only your father was supposed to know! But it should never have been kept from you, and I swore I would tell you if I ever got the chance.”

 

“You’re telling me,” Zuko said slowly, “that my mother could still be alive somewhere, and that she has another child?”

 

Basma closed her eyes and nodded, taking another deep breath to collect herself again. “I don’t know what happened to her, or the child, after her banishment. But yes.”

 

Zuko tilted his head back and stared up at the clear sky in silence for a moment. Then he looked back at the miserable old woman who stood trembling before him. “Thank you, Basma,” he said. It was all he could manage.

 

The old woman bowed her head. “With your leave…” she began. Zuko nodded and waved her away. It had been years since anyone had shown him such deference, but she shook off Aang’s support and managed to bow from the waist before she backed away three paces, then hurried from the terrace. Somehow, Zuko knew she would not tell Toph’s mother who he really was.

 

Aang broke the silence that followed. “So...your mother…” he began, awkwardly gripping his left arm with his right hand. 

 

Zuko sighed and pressed his free hand to his forehead. “I thought she was dead,” he said, as much to himself as in reply to Aang. He didn’t even know where to begin, how to explain any of this to the boy, when so much of what he’d thought he had known had just been turned on its head…

 

But Katara was asking Aang to give them a moment alone, and Aang acquiesced, leaving them with a tentative “See you at dinner?”

 

Dinner with Toph and her mother was the last thing on Zuko’s mind as Katara led him gently by the hand back towards the cushions where they had been sitting earlier. They sat facing the view of the hills again, and Zuko freed his hand from Katara’s grasp in order to put his arm around her shoulders and pull her close to him. He felt surprisingly calm, all things considered. His mother had murdered his grandfather, a crime he had always assumed was his father’s - very well. His father had banished his mother - alright. These were revelations, but they changed very little. The past was what it was.

 

But if there really was another child...did he have another sister? Was she as powerful as Azula, or as cruel? Or did he have a younger brother, a prince in exile just like him? The child would be a teenager by now. Did he know who he was? Did he wonder why his father had abandoned him?

 

“She had another child,” Zuko finally said out loud. “That must be why…”

 

He felt Katara nod where she was leaning against him. “There was another child she needed to protect,” she said softly, echoing his own thought.

 

Zuko had never had any reason to assume his mother was dead, except that after years of wandering the world, and all the stories about him that he knew travelled far and wide, he couldn’t think of why she wouldn’t have tried to find him, unless she couldn’t. But if she had needed to stay hidden, to stay away for the sake of this younger sibling… It didn’t make all those years without her any easier, but it was at least an explanation. And it was a reason that now, as a grown man with a son of his own that he had left behind because there was another child depending on him, he could understand.

 

With all that he had just learned, it was still the thought of Arvik, too young to understand anything except that his mother and father were gone, that made Zuko close his eyes, bury his face in Katara’s hair, and weep.

 

* * *

 

_ Fire Nation Capital - Four Years Earlier _

 

Sending Zhao to retake Omashu had been Azula’s idea.

 

An admiral of the navy would normally have little to do with the siege of an inland city, but Azula hadn’t seen why such formalities should keep them from using one of their best military leaders where he was needed, and the Phoenix King had consented to her suggestion to put the airships used in the assault under Zhao’s command.

 

Zhao, in turn, had performed admirably, using his airship fleet to target the aqueducts that provided the city’s water supply, choking out the rebels and driving them to ground. Omashu was now New Ozai again, and the black flame banner hung over her gates once more. Zhao’s return to the capital was a triumph both for him and for Azula, eclipsing any lingering shame of prior campaigns that had not gone so well.

 

There was a banquet held to celebrate the victory, of course, a tedious formal affair where Azula was seated at her father’s right hand, as always, and Zhao in the next highest place of honor at Ozai’s left. The minister of war, whom Azula usually found to be a tolerable dinner companion, was seated on the other side of Zhao, and the two of them conversed with Ozai like old friends most of the evening, leaving Azula with only General Yee to talk to. A middle-aged woman from a modest family who had entered the army as a rank-and-file soldier and worked her way up, Yee was efficient and reliable, good at following orders like anyone of her station ought to be, but even having played her part commanding the ground forces in the recent victory, there was little about her that interested Azula.

 

But while Yee droned on about the farm out on the northern peninsula where her sister and brother-in-law raised komodo rhinos for the army - terribly outdated, in this age of metal tanks and war balloons - Azula did manage to catch Zhao’s eye for a moment while her father was distracted with his wine cup, and that was enough to assure her that the admiral was as dissatisfied with the seating arrangements as she was.

 

Good. Undoubtedly, that meant she would be seeing him later.

 

When the Phoenix King at long last declared the tiresome celebration to be at an end, Azula retired to her apartments - not the room she had occupied as a child, which she had long since outgrown, nor the rooms traditionally reserved for the Fire Lord, which her father still occupied, but a separate wing of the palace which she had laid claim to shortly after her coronation. They were the rooms that had belonged to her mother, when Ozai had been only a prince, and not even expected to inherit the crown. How things had changed since then.

 

Having sent her servants away - Azula never bothered to learn their names anymore, the turnover was simply too high - she retreated to her dressing room, tugging the Flame of Agni free from her hair as she went. It really was an ugly, uncomfortable thing, she thought as she deposited it on her vanity. The base was always digging into her skull, and wearing it for hours on end was torture. At the very least, it was less ridiculous than the Phoenix King’s crown.

 

She frowned at the assortment of other hair ornaments that littered the vanity’s surface - jeweled pins, gold beads, and a jade comb she’d had for ages. She recalled having taken them out when she was dressing for the banquet, but could no longer remember why. Obviously she wouldn’t have considered wearing any of them in place of the crown…

 

She glanced up at the mirror, and her frown deepened at the messy ruins of her once-neat topknot. She quickly pulled the ribbons out and snatched a brush from the top drawer of the vanity. With sharp, deliberate strokes, she worked the tangles out of her hair, ignoring the little voice in the back of her mind that sounded like her mother chiding her about split ends.

 

When she was satisfied with her hair once more, Azula returned to the sitting room and settled herself on one of the low couches, glancing idly over the maps, airship schematics, and other assorted papers that covered the dark wooden table. Ozai still used the Fire Lord’s office as well, and Azula had refused to take the one meant for the Fire Lady, so the sitting room remained her best workspace, where she prepared for war councils and met with advisors, on the rare occasion that she wanted advice.

 

With a sigh, Azula leaned back into the couch cushions, not caring if the bright red silk she had worn for the banquet got wrinkled, and closed her eyes. She had barely rested in that position for a moment when there was a knock at the door. “Enter,” she called out without moving. Only one man would be so brazen as to bother the Fire Lord at this hour, and he was precisely the man she wanted to see.

 

“Fire Lord Azula,” came Admiral Zhao’s greeting, and she opened her eyes to see him rising from a smooth half-bow. This one knew all his lines, never forgot to bow and scrape, coating his ambition in perfect deference. It was an utterly transparent façade, and they both knew it, but the fact that he maintained it so carefully was oddly gratifying.

 

“Admiral,” she returned his greeting with a grin, waving him over to sit in his usual chair by her. “How did our little experiment go?” Before he had left on his latest campaign, they had discussed several modifications to the airship fleet, and she was eager to hear if her suggestions had worked.

 

“The improvements to the rudder controls helped,” Zhao replied as he took his seat, his dark red dress uniform immaculate as ever, when he actually wore it for palace events. “But the airships still aren’t as maneuverable as battle cruisers.” 

 

“Even for a man as talented at maneuvering as you?” Azula asked dryly. Zhao smiled patiently at the jab, but she caught the flicker of resentment in his eyes just before he snuffed it out, and knew she had landed a hit. She leaned towards him, over the arm of the couch, reaching out and tugging at the collar of his uniform. “You know what?” she said, tilting her head in pretend consideration. “I think your armor suits you better than this thing.”

 

She held his eyes - and there it was again, the slightest flinch. Even Zhao had his pride, no matter how good he was at swallowing it. But there was a desire that burned hot inside him as well, a lust for power that kept him from being just another pushover, and power was one thing Azula still had. That was how she kept him like her dragon on a leash.

 

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Zhao commented mildly.

 

Impishly, Azula undid the ornate clasp of his collar, her fingers just brushing the hollow of his throat. “Be sure that you do.”

 

He caught her hand in a tight grip, an almost defiant gesture, but he did not push her away. She waited him out, still leaning over the arm of the couch with her face upturned towards his, while his indignation warred with his desires. She knew which side was going to win. If he wanted the crumbs from her table, he wasn’t going to get them for free.

 

Sure enough, she knew the moment he gave in. The fire in his eyes did not cool - nor would she want it to - but he shifted his grip on her hand, lacing their fingers together, his rough and hers delicate. With a triumphant grin, Azula leaned just a little closer, tilting her chin as if to urge him to action. And Zhao, her good, obedient admiral, headed her wordless command.

 

Their lips met. His breath still tasted like the spiced wine from the banquet, mingled with the faint odor of smoke and ash that never quite left a military man. It was the taste of victory.

 

* * *

 

_ Gaoling, South-Western Earth Kingdom - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

Dinner turned out to be a morose affair.

 

The formal clothes Aang had been given to wear were uncomfortable, and no one had told the cook he was a vegetarian, so he wound up with only plain rice and the thin broth served as the soup course. Aruna was seated across the table from him, and even without Toph’s warning, Aang wouldn’t have known what to say to her. As it was, he could barely look her in the eye.

 

Zuko was unusually quiet, even for him. Aang couldn’t imagine what it was like to find out you had a brother or sister you never knew about, or that someone you had thought for years was dead might not be, but he would have assumed both of those would be good news. Then again, Zuko’s family was really complicated.

 

That left Katara to carry most of the conversation with Toph and her mother. While Madame Bei Fong accepted their story as easily as Toph had assured them she would, she didn’t seem to think they were particularly interesting house guests, and was coolly polite to them all evening. It was a relief when dinner was over, and Aang immediately ran back to his room to change into his own, more comfortable clothes.

 

One divested of his formalwear, Aang debated knocking on Zuko and Katara’s door again. He did still have a lot of questions about what Basma had told them that afternoon, but he wasn’t sure if they would be ready to talk to him about it yet. No matter how many times he was reminded that his guardians saw him as family, he couldn’t help feeling a little bit like an interloper when it came to things like this. Leaving his room, he cast one look at their door down the hall from him, then headed in the opposite direction.

 

They had passed by the courtyard earlier that day, and the gardens there looked like a pleasant place for his evening prayer and meditation. The twilight was just fading, but one of the servants had lit lanterns along the colonnade, and the scent of the flowers hung in the fresh spring air. It was a serene atmosphere. Aang found a nice spot by some panda lillies and sat, lotus style, on the ground, closing his eyes.

 

He had only just begun his meditation when he became aware of another presence in the garden. “Oh,” said Aruna’s voice softly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to...”

 

Aang opened his eyes and saw the girl standing a few paces from him. She was still wearing the pale green dress she had worn at dinner, but she had undone her hair, and it now hung straight and dark around her shoulders. She was very pretty.

 

“Sorry, am I in your way?” Aang hastily apologized, moving to get up. This was her house, he supposed, and he should get out of her way.

 

“No, don’t get up,” Aruna insisted. “I don’t want to disturb you. I’ll go somewhere else.” She looked shyly at the ground, and tucked her hair behind one ear. “I just...never thanked you.”

 

“Thanked me?” Aang asked in confusion. He’d thought the girl was afraid of him, or at least uncomfortable around him. He didn’t see what she had to thank him for.

 

“For trying to...well, for trying to help me and my brother,” Aruna explained. She folded her arms tightly. “You didn’t have to do that.”

 

“Oh,” Aang said, blinking in surprised. He hadn’t thought they were being particularly selfless at the time. “We didn’t do a very good job of it, though.”

 

Aruna gave a little laugh and finally met Aang’s eyes. He was glad to see her smile. “That was more more Sanjay’s fault than yours,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I love my brother, but he’s not really as brilliant as he thinks he is.”

 

“Still,” Aang insisted. “I’m sorry we scared you.”

 

Aruna looked away again, and Aang immediately regretted having said anything. What was he thinking, reminding her how scared she had been? But after a tense moment, Aruna shrugged. “That’s all in the past,” she said. “I really am grateful you tried to help.”

 

Though she was now staring at the panda lilies rather than look at him, Aruna made no move to go. Well, in for a copper, in for gold, Aang figured. “You really didn’t know that your uncle…”

 

“Was using me as a hostage?” Aruna finished the question for him, a bitter edge to her voice. “No. Uncle Jiro was never...pleasant to be around.” She shrugged, still hugging herself around the middle. “I guess it was hard to tell the difference between being his hostage and being his guest.”

 

It wasn’t quite on the same level as Zuko’s father banishing his mother because she had killed his grandfather, but Aruna’s family definitely sounded really complicated, too. Though Aang supposed it really came down to the same reason why - the war. That made everything complicated.

 

Aang leaned back on his hands and stretched his legs out in front of him, since he wasn’t getting any meditation done anyway. “What about your mother?” he asked, just to change the subject. “What was she like?”

 

Aruna smiled again, and Aang felt triumphant. “She was a lot like my brother,” she said fondly.

 

Aang was about to ask her if she wanted to sit with him, on the stone bench not far away if she didn’t want to sit on the ground, but the invitation was cut off by the sound of Katara calling his name. His real name, not his code name. That alone would have been enough to have him leaping to his feet with a burst of airbending, even if the urgency in her voice hadn’t been plain.

 

Katara herself came running into the garden soon after, a crumpled letter clutched in one hand. “There you are,” she said, hurriedly grabbing Aang by the shoulder and ushering him back towards their guest rooms. “We have to leave.”

 

“What’s going on?” Aang asked nervously. Aruna was trailing after them, clearly concerned as well. So much for his efforts to cheer her up.

 

“Sokka sent word that Azula’s been spotted heading for Gaoling,” Katara explained, brandishing the letter. “They think she’s looking for you.”

 

Aang halted in his tracks, breaking free of Katara’s grip. “Then shouldn’t we stay to protect the town?” he asked with a frown. He didn’t like the idea of running away and letting other people get hurt because of him. If Azula was really as bad as Zuko and Katara made her out to be…

 

“Katara’s right,” Aruna said softly. “The Fire Lord getting her hands on the Avatar would be worse than anything she could do to us.”

 

Aang and Katara both looked at the girl in surprise. It was an unexpectedly noble sentiment coming from the girl who had been so unassuming. Aang wouldn’t have thought her capable of voicing such a harsh assessment of the Fire Lord, either.

 

“Will Toph go with you?” Aruna asked, when neither Aang nor Katara said anything in response to her.

 

Katara seemed to shake herself out of some reverie inspired by Aruna’s agreement with her. “Zuko went to find her,” she said. Then she gave Aruna an apologetic look. “I know Toph was supposed to stay here with you, but we still need an earthbending master for Aang…”

 

Aruna nodded. “I will stay with the Bei Fongs, then,” she said. For all her certainty a moment ago, her voice trembled now. She gave them a small bow and took her leave to go find Madame Bei Fong and discuss arrangements with her.

 

“Let’s get your things,” Katara said, urging Aang towards his room again. They packed hurriedly, then all but ran to the stable, where they found Toph and Zuko waiting for them, with Appa already saddled and ready to go.

 

While Katara helped Toph into the saddle, Aang cast one final look back at the villa. It was truly night time now, and he could just make out the glow of the lantern light from the gardens. It still looked so peaceful. Some part of him hoped that it would stay that way, that Azula would pass right by Gaoling and go on fruitlessly searching for him in desolate places and leaving everyone and everything else alone. But he knew that was too much to hope for.

 

He climbed into the saddle and curled up at the back. Zuko was at the reins, and Katara conferred with him for a moment before he brought Appa into the air. Toph clung white-knuckled to the front rim of the saddle as they gained altitude, muttering some complaint under her breath, while Katara came and sat next to Aang.

 

“The General is sending troops to defend the town,” Katara assured him, putting an arm around his shoulders. “We’re not abandoning them.”

 

Aang leaned into the hug and shut his eyes, trying to pretend he believed her.

 

* * *

 

The resistance in Gaoling had been pitiful, but Azula took no pleasure in her easy victory. The town was poorly fortified, the rebels a hastily dispatched band sent to intercept her, and the conquest meaningless. There would be reinforcements on their way to liberate Gaoling from her grip, no doubt, and if she had wanted to hold on to it she could have summoned reinforcements of her own. But Azula had no intention of holding Gaoling, and no need for assistance from anyone.

 

All that mattered was that the Avatar was not here.

 

She had scoured the town personally, inspected all the young boys of the right age, threatened those adults she deemed worth the effort to squeeze information out of. There was no sign of the young airbender, and no one knew anything. If he had been here, he had come in stealth, and left with just as little trace.

 

The estates of the wealthy landowners that lay around the town she had left for last. Gaoling’s elite were mostly old money but untitled, the tiresome sort of commoners who thought far too highly of themselves, in Azula’s opinion. But her father never liked it when she put them in their place - something about it making collecting taxes difficult. He really had gone soft since Ba Sing Se.

 

Still, she could leave no stone unturned, and so it was that on the second day of her single-handed occupation, Azula left the slightly charred town proper for the peripheral estates. The smoke had already cleared away from what little damage she had done to the town. Let it never be said that she had no restraint.

 

The Kung and Xipeng estates were as boring and devoid of any sign of the Avatar as she had expected. Azula did set fire to Madame Xipeng’s prized orange trees, as much for the sake of boredom as intimidation. Her next stop was the Bei Fong estate.

 

Madame Bei Fong was curt verging on short-tempered, and utterly clueless. Azula spent most of their brief interview wondering what she should destroy this time, to teach the woman some respect. Perhaps one of the ugly Earth Kingdom tapestries that adorned the reception hall of the house.

 

But before she could reach a firm decision, there was a crashing sound of shattering glass and clattering metal. Azula looked around abruptly to see that an old woman had been sent in with a tray of refreshments, and dropped them. All their money, and the Bei Fongs couldn’t even afford competent help?

 

The old woman was stooped over the mess, hastily gathering up bits of broken glass and muttering hurried apologies. Azula frowned while Madame Bei Fong scolded the servant. There was something familiar about her…

 

Then the old woman looked up, and Azula saw her face, white with fear. Her own servants might be little more than interchangeable nameless drones to her now, but Azula had never forgotten her mother’s ladies in waiting. Certainly not this one.

 

“Well, Basma,” she said with a cruel smile, a new plan already forming. “It has been a long time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that was quite a chapter.
> 
> If you've read [The Tragic End of Fire Lord Azulon](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14560641), you may not have been surprised by Basma's revelation. I can now say that this one-shot does in fact take place in the same universe as Fate Deferred, and was always intended to.
> 
> Hopefully this chapter has given you a lot to think about, because it'll have to do for a while. I'm taking another short hiatus. Updates will resume on Friday, February 1st.
> 
> Merry Christmas & Happy New Year!


	25. The Chase

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leaving Gaoling, our protagonists try to shake Azula off their trail. In the past, Zuko and Katara aren't on the same page.

**Book II: Earth**

 

**Chapter 7: The Chase**

 

_South-Western Earth Kingdom - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet_

 

When they left Gaoling, they headed northwest, crossing the narrow gulf and into the wooded peninsula that lay west of the real mountains, far taller than the hills around Gaoling. They stopped a couple hours before dawn and made a hasty camp, though not quickly enough for Katara’s liking. She really wished Toph hadn’t waited until she and Aang were halfway through unpacking the tents before she had pointed out that with earthbending she could make shelters for all of them that wouldn’t need to be packed up again if they had to leave in a hurry.

 

They decided to forgo a campfire, lest they give away their location. It was a warm enough night, and there was just enough light by the waxing moon to keep watch - though of course Toph pointed out that she wouldn’t need light anyway, and could still keep watch better than the rest of them. Katara knew she was just trying to be helpful, but she didn’t have to be so smug about it.

 

Aang was silent as he tossed down their bedrolls. Katara could have attributed it to him just being tired, but she knew he was as worried about the people back in Gaoling as they all were. It would take a few days for General Kwon’s troops to reach the town, and that was plenty of time for Azula to do damage, even by herself. But they couldn’t dwell on that.

 

“Tomorrow we’ll continue towards Whaletail Island,” Katara said softly as she shook out her bedroll, trying to get rid of the loose fur that clung to it. Appa was still shedding. “Sokka said he would meet us at there.” Her brother’s letter, probably written in haste as soon as he had learned of Azula’s trajectory, hadn’t included directions beyond that. Hopefully, by taking this less direct route over the peninsula, rather than flying straight to the island, their intended destination would be harder to guess.

 

Aang nodded at her explanation, throwing down his own bedroll, fur and all, inside one of the three stone shelters Toph had made. But Toph herself was less satisfied. “Who’s Sokka?” she asked.

 

“Katara’s brother,” Zuko answered, absently picking a few white hairs off his sleeve. “He’s probably the best strategist the Allies have.”

 

“And is he going to strategize the Fire Lord into leaving us alone?” Toph replied, clearly unimpressed. “Because if he can’t do that, we’re going to have to face her sooner or later.”

 

Katara frowned. “You don’t know Sokka,” she said irritably. Katara knew her brother was going to be more help to them than Toph thought, but it was hard to explain his whole spirit thing to someone who hadn’t met him.

 

“You don’t know Azula either, for that matter,” Zuko added. “Fighting her should be a last resort.”

 

“Guys,” came Aang’s weary voice from inside his earth-tent. “Can we just get some sleep?”

 

Toph shrugged. “The kid’s got a point,” she said. “Good night.” She ducked inside  the earth-tent next to Aang’s, not even bothering with a bedroll. Apparently, she didn’t mind sleeping on the bare ground.

 

Katara and Zuko took the third earth-tent, on the other side of Aang. As she settled down next to her husband, Katara thought ruefully of the luxurious guest rooms back at the villa in Gaoling. They hadn’t even gotten to spend one night in the soft beds.

 

“I wonder,” Zuko said softly in the darkness after a moment, “if Azula knows where my mom is.” Katara sighed. Of course he was being kept awake by that question. She would be, too, in his place. “My father might have told her,” he went on. “Or she might have known all along. Azula was always eavesdropping…”

 

“If she did know,” Katara reasoned, rolling over onto her side to face him, “would it matter? She’s not going to tell us.”

 

“She might,” Zuko insisted. “If she thought she could use it to hurt me.” It was too dark for Katara to see his face, but he sounded almost hopeful.

 

“She might lie for the same reason,” Katara cautioned. If there was a chance of finding out where Ursa had gone, they couldn’t rely on Azula of all people to be any help, even unwittingly.

 

“You’re right,” Zuko admitted. His hand found her shoulder, traced down the length of her arm, and finally clasped her hand. “Azula always lies.” He shifted closer, holding her hand against his chest. “I’m sorry, this is the last thing I should be worried about right now. If we’re lucky, she won’t get anywhere near us.”

 

Katara hummed a vague agreement, and let her eyes drift shut. They had already talked this over, back at the villa. Preparing Aang to defeat Ozai was their priority now, and looking for Ursa would have to wait. She settled her head on Zuko’s shoulder, and his other arm wrapped around her. It had surprised her, when they were newly married, how much of a cuddler Zuko was. But now, as she fell asleep, she thought it wasn’t so strange that he might be afraid of people disappearing in the night.

 

She dreamed that she was back home at the South Pole, trying to make dinner, but she couldn’t find any of the ingredients she needed. Arvik, the grown-up Arvik she had seen in the swamp, was fighting with Aang over the dragon toy he had gotten for his birthday.

 

“Zuko and Azula used to fight like that, too,” Ursa said fondly, handing her the seal jerky she had been looking for.

 

“Can’t you make them stop?” Katara asked desperately, as the two boys continued to wrestle each other for the toy. But Ursa only shook her head. If she had anything to say, Katara was abruptly awoken before she could hear what it was.

 

“Get up,” Toph ordered urgently. “Someone’s coming.”

 

Katara blinked in confusion as Zuko pulled her to her feet. The stone shelters Toph had made for them were gone, and the sky was dark. The moon had set, but the sun wasn’t up yet. She fumbled in the darkness to collect their bedrolls. “How many?” she heard Zuko ask in a low voice.

 

“One tank,” Toph replied. “Can’t be more than four or five people in there, but I can’t tell for sure. That machine makes too much noise.” Katara headed in the direction she presumed was towards Appa, but Toph roughly grabbed her shoulder and turned her around. “That way, Princess,” she said, giving her a little shove.

 

Katara didn’t bother voicing her objection to the nickname as she found her way to Appa and got their things loaded onto the saddle. Aang was already on the bison’s back, and lent her a hand to climb up as well. It was more difficult in the dark, and not helped by the fact that tufts of Appa’s fur were still coming off as she scrambled up.

 

“One tank?” Katara repeated once everyone was in the saddle and they were in the air. “That’s it?”

 

“Sokka’s letter did say Azula was traveling light,” Zuko pointed out. Now that they were up above the trees, the first light of dawn was visible on the horizon, and Katara could see the others again - Aang at the reins with Momo on his shoulder, Zuko across from her towards the front of the saddle, and Toph further back, once again holding on tight.

 

“Appa can fly faster than a tank,” Aang said confidently.

 

“Yeah, but we’ll have to stop eventually,” Zuko pointed out, leaning back over the edge of the saddle with a frown. He reached out and gently tugged on Appa’s fur, coming away with a handful of loose white hairs that he released into the wind. “And right now we’ll be pretty easy to track. All she has to do is follow the trail of white fluff.”

 

A pit formed in Katara’s stomach as she realized he was right. “Great,” Toph groaned. “The giant flying monster isn’t even stealthy. Who could have known.”

 

“Hey!” Aang cried out indignantly, turning around to face them. “It’s not Appa’s fault he’s shedding! It’s just a natural part of his life rhythm!”

 

“Well the Fire Lord is going to really disrupt our life rhythm if we don’t do something about it,” Toph shot back.

 

“Alright, everybody calm down,” Katara said, before Aang could argue any further. She leaned over the edge of the saddle, scanning the terrain below. It was hard to see through the dense woods, and the early morning light from the east cast dark shadows, but they just needed to find… “There!” she she said, pointing to the thin silvery ribbon that wound its way northeast. “Head for that stream,” she directed Aang.

 

“This is taking us off course,” Zuko pointed out as Aang followed her instructions. Whaletail Island was further west.

 

“I know,” Katara said. It was a risky detour, doubling back. “But we’ve got to lose our trail first.”

 

* * *

 

_Eastern Earth Kingdom - Eight Years Earlier_

 

If the village had a name, there was nothing to indicate it. Katara had passed through countless towns like this on her travels from Gaoling to the refugee camp - a cluster of houses surrounded by a few plots of cultivated or grazing land, a small marketplace in the center. Being situated on the shores of Chameleon Bay, this one also featured crowded docks where the fishermen were already returning with the morning’s catch by the time she and Zuko got there.

 

The village looked fairly prosperous, all things considered. The vegetable stalls in the market were bare, and Katara guessed rice would be in short supply as well, but they clearly had plenty of fish. The children who ran and played in the streets were skinny and shabbily dressed, but they didn’t have the hollow-cheeked look of true hunger.

 

But Katara, having eaten nothing since leaving the camp the day before, was ravenously hungry. She assumed Zuko must be as well, though he didn’t complain. She hadn’t notice at first, because of his generally surly attitude, but Zuko didn’t actually voice much complaint at all. Not about being sick or hurt or hungry, anyway. And the entire time she’d known him, he had been at least one of those things.

 

Still, he needed to eat and so did she, and when she suggested they try the one tavern in the corner of the marketplace before looking to buy provisions, he didn’t argue. The wizened old tavern keeper gave them both a curious once-over glance when they entered his establishment, but was happy to sell them a hot meal - which wound up consisting, unsurprisingly, of fish stew. They retired to a corner table, out of the way of the tavern’s few other patrons, with their two steaming bowls.

 

Zuko ate quickly, and Katara wondered if he was discreetly using his firebending to cool his stew, or if the heat just didn’t bother him. She stirred her own bowl, then held up a spoonful and blew on it. She could condense steam to water and freeze water into ice, of course, but subtler adjustments in temperature were beyond the scope of her own bending.

 

She took a cautious sip of the broth as soon as she thought it was safe. “It’s pretty salty,” she observed, just to have something to say.

 

Zuko shrugged with his good shoulder. “It’s fine,” he said, eyes fixed downward on his food. Katara sighed. Sometimes talking to him was like pulling teeth.

 

“I should heal your shoulder once we’re done eating,” she tried instead. That only got a nod out of him. After their argument that morning, he had really clammed up. “And maybe we should see if the tavern has rooms for the night?” she suggested, before taking another spoonful of the stew. It _was_ salty, but not bad.

 

Zuko looked up at her skeptically. “You want to spend the night here?”

 

“Well, why not?” Katara asked defensively. She doubted the accommodations would be luxurious, but it had to be better than sleeping on the ground. “It’s not like we have somewhere to be in a hurry.”

 

“You know why not,” Zuko shot back in a low voice, pushing aside his nearly empty bowl. “The same reason I didn’t want to come here in the first place.”

 

“We haven’t had any problems so far,” Katara pointed out. Sure, people noticed them - it would be hard not to notice strangers in a town like this - but no one seemed interested in causing any trouble.

 

“So far,” Zuko echoed pessimistically, casting a suspicious glance at the middle-aged couple sitting on the other side of the room from them, who were minding their own business. His fatalism bordering on paranoia reminded Katara of what he had all but said that morning, about being cursed. But in the mundane setting of the tavern, that seemed even more ridiculous.

 

They finished eating in silence, and Zuko didn’t argue when the tavern keeper came to clear away their empty bowls and Katara asked him about lodging. “Sure,” the old man said with a nod. “I can fix you two up with a room.”

 

“Oh,” Katara said, feeling a flush creeping across her cheeks. Zuko coughed, and she pointedly did not look at him. “Actually, we’re not...that is, we’d prefer separate rooms, if possible?”

 

“My apologies,” the old man said, stacking to two bowls in one hand and pressing the other to his chest. “Two rooms. No problem. Will you and your...friend be staying long?”

 

“No,” Zuko answered curtly, before Katara could give a more polite answer. “Just tonight.”

 

The tavern keeper nodded, unfazed. “Passing through, no surprise there. Mind if I ask where you’re headed?”

 

“South,” Zuko answered again, before Katara could come up with anything. Of course, they didn’t really have a destination in mind. Katara wasn’t even sure how long they would be traveling together.

 

“Towards Yaosai?” the tavern keeper asked, not taking the hint from Zuko’s short answers at all.

 

“Further south than that,” Zuko replied. Katara noticed his right hand clench and unclench in the sling at the mention of the castle town.

 

The tavern keeper raised his eyebrows and whistled. “What, are you going all the way to Gaoling or something?”

 

“Yes!” Katara replied before Zuko could say anything else. “I have family in that area.” Which was true - Sokka and his band of warriors were somewhere near Gaoling, as of his last letter, having met up with his Earth Kingdom General. Though even all the way out here, across the great desert from Fire Nation occupied territory, Katara knew better than to say anything about that.

 

“I see,” the tavern keeper said with a smile and a wink in her direction. “You bringing your _boyfriend_ here home to meet the family?”

 

“He’s not my…” Katara began, at the same moment that Zuko let out a similarly flustered “I’m not her…” Both trailed off, embarrassed.

 

The tavern keeper laughed. “Relax, I’m just teasing you. I’ll have your rooms ready in an hour or so. Can I get you anything to drink while you wait?”

 

Katara declined politely, and the tavern keeper finally left them be. Painfully aware that she was still blushing, she met Zuko’s eye with a sort of embarrassed shrug. She should have expected this. A young woman, traveling alone with a man who was clearly not her relative - naturally, people were going to make assumptions.

 

But Zuko made a dismissive gesture with his free hand, apparently not that bothered. In fact, he looked more pensive than anything else. It was a bit intense, actually, the way he was looking at her. She looked away, watching the tavern keeper give instructions to a boy who looked about thirteen or so, who then went off presumably to get their rooms ready.

 

“As soon as we’re settled in,” Katara said, more to fill the awkward silence than anything else, “I’ll heal your shoulder.” It would probably take all the water in her waterskin, but she was no longer worried about refilling it here.

 

“Thank you,” Zuko said softly. Katara blinked in surprise, looking back at him, but Zuko was now studying the wood grain of the tabletop. He had never outright thanked her before. Most people didn’t, actually.

 

“You’re welcome,” Katara replied. There really wasn’t anything else to say.

 

After another long silence, Zuko surprised her again. “What’s it like at the South Pole?” he asked, tracing one finger over a knot in the wood of the table.

 

“Cold,” Katara replied, starting with the obvious. “There’s snow and ice everywhere, which is amazing for a waterbender, but it’s a harsh environment. We work hard to survive.” She didn’t bother to disguise the pride in that last statement. Her people were survivors, and everyone should know it.

 

“Do you miss it?” Zuko asked.

 

“Of course,” Katara said quickly. “It’s home.” Though that wasn’t exactly true. The home that she had left wasn’t the same as the home that she really missed, hadn’t been for a long time and never would be again. She fought back an irrational wave of anger at Zuko for asking about it. It wasn’t _his_ fault, after all.

 

But if the dark turn her thoughts had taken showed, Zuko wouldn’t have seen it, his eyes still downcast. “Of course,” he echoed. “Home.”

 

He didn’t ask any more questions, but as they waited in silence, Katara eventually remembered that they were a long way from the big island in the Fire Nation, too.

 

* * *

 

_South-Western Earth Kingdom - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet_

 

Appa landed in the stream with a great splash, and the four of them set about cleaning off as much of the bison’s shedding fur as they could. Well, the three of them, really. Aang and Katara used waterbending, and Zuko scrubbed at Appa’s coat as best as he could, but Toph insisted she could barely see anything in the water and retreated to the dry bank to stand guard.

 

“There’s no tanks coming, are there?” Katara called out to the younger woman as they combed through Appa’s fur one last time. The sun was now just peeking over the tops of the trees. This stop had been time consuming, but hopefully worth it.

 

“The coast is clear for now, Princess,” Toph called back. Aang heard Katara scoff at the sarcastic title - she was technically a princess, wasn’t she? He would have to ask Sokka about it - but he was distracted by the last few patches of white fur floating lazily downstream from them.

 

“Should we collect that?” he asked, gesturing to the fur. “We could use it to lay a false trail, try to fool Azula…”

 

“Azula’s not going to fall for that,” Zuko replied, even as Aang was already scooping up one large clump of fur. “Once she tracks us to the stream, she’ll realize what we’ve done. Our best bet is to leave no trail at all from here.”

 

“And hope no one happens to see the giant bison flying overhead?” Toph questioned skeptically.

 

“Do you have a better plan?” Katara asked. Aang bended the water out of the fur in his hands, and stuffed it into a bag anyway. Bison fur was still good for lots of other things. He tossed the bag back up into Appa’s saddle, and leaped up after it.

 

“Hope isn’t a plan,” Toph was arguing with Katara, still on the ground. “And if this is how you guys usually do things, it’s a wonder the Fire Nation hasn’t captured Aang already.”

 

Katara made an inarticulate noise of exasperation, and Aang glanced back down at the adults just in time to see Zuko put a calming hand on her shoulder. “We know what we’re doing,” he insisted firmly.

 

“Yeah?” Toph replied, looking unconvinced. “You know that you’re running with your tail between your legs?”

 

Aang stood up in the saddle and voiced a protest of his own, but it was drowned out by Katara’s far more indignant response, and the three bickering adults didn’t even spare him a glance. With a frustrated sigh, Aang glanced back down at the bag of bison fur. Zuko said Azula would figure out what they’d done when she followed their trail to the stream...but what if it lead to a different body of water? He was pretty sure there was another stream that fed into this one, further east…

 

Grabbing the bag and his glider, Aang took off silently. He would lay the false trail and be back in no time at all, and at the very least that would stall Azula, giving them more time to make it to Whaletail Island. And then, once Sokka met up with them...well, he had to have some sort of plan, didn’t he?

 

It was nice to be flying in silence for a while, without Toph’s needling comments. He headed north at first, then banked east, laying what he hoped looked like a natural trail. He couldn’t see any tanks from his vantage point, either - perhaps they had already lost their pursuer.

 

But soon Aang had run out of loose fur, and he still didn’t see the river he was looking for. What would Azula do if she followed the trail to the middle of the woods, and then it suddenly stopped? That would still confuse her for a little bit, right?

 

That optimistic line of thinking was brought to a quick halt as he had to swerve to avoid a sudden jet of blue flame from below. A second blast following rapidly on the first caught the corner of his glider, forcing him to land less than gracefully in the treetops, then hurriedly leap out of the way of still more blue flames hurled at him.

 

His attacker was a lone woman, dressed in black and gold armor, riding on the back of some kind of lizard mount. A gold crown glistened in her severe topknot. Fire Lord Azula had abandoned the tank, and she had found him.

 

* * *

 

“Don’t stand there and call us cowards!” Katara shouted at Toph. “You have no idea what we’re dealing with!”

 

“Well, excuse me, Princess,” Toph replied, doubling down on the sarcasm. “I just want us to have a better plan than running forever.”

 

“This is why we need to meet up with Sokka,” Zuko reminded her, still trying to be the voice of reason. He understood perfectly why Katara was losing her patience with the obnoxious earthbender, but this argument was nothing but a waste of time. He was about to say as much when Momo came to a frantic landing on top of his head, chattering and pulling at his hair. “Ow! Knock it off, Momo!” he complained, pulling the lemur off of him, and turned to tell Aang to come take charge of his pet.

 

That was when they realized Aang was gone.

 

“He’s not anywhere nearby,” Toph said as Katara scrambled up into Appa’s saddle. “At least, not on the ground.”

 

“He took his glider,” Katara replied, scanning the skies above. “He could have gone pretty far…”

 

“Katara, take Appa and search the skies,” Zuko said, taking charge. If anyone knew how to conduct a search for the Avatar... “Toph and I will split up and search the ground.” Whether she actually respected his authority or just realized the gravity of the situation, Toph thankfully didn’t try to argue, and both she and Katara did as he had told them.

 

Toph headed southwest, while Zuko went northeast. They had no idea where Aang might have been going, so they had to search a wide area. Knowing the boy had taken his glider, Zuko kept his eyes trained upwards, looking for any hint of orange in the skies, or any disturbance in the upper branches of the trees. That was how he spotted the tuft of white fur hanging from a tall pine. It looked like Appa’s hair, but Zuko was certain they had not flown this way.

 

Aang was trying to lay a false trail. Had he not listened to anything Zuko had said?

 

Zuko quickened his pace. He at least could follow the trail to Aang, but anyone else might do the same. Sure enough, he soon came across mongoose lizard tracks headed in the same direction, due east. Azula had been pursuing them in a tank, but Toph hadn’t been able to detect it for some time…

 

The unmistakable sound of roaring blasts of firebending in the distance confirmed his worst fears. He broke into a run, not even needing to follow the trail anymore, just heading straight for the the place where everything was on fire.

 

He found the abandoned lizard mount first, running scared from the growing blaze. Azula was being extremely careless, and it wasn’t hard to spot her soon after. She was chasing Aang through the treetops, leaping from flaming branches and shooting jets of blue flame that Aang was struggling to dodge. The boy seemed to have lost his glider, and each time his feet touched down on a branch he had to leap away from another blast of fire, with hardly a moment to strike back with airbending. He had no waterskin with him, either.

 

Zuko intercepted Azula’s next fire blast with one of his own, and his sister finally took notice of his presence on the ground. She looked livid. The branch she was crouched on cracked and started to fall, but Azula caught herself and landed gracefully, facing Zuko. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Aang scurry away behind him.

 

“So it is true that you’ve been helping the Avatar,” Azula said, taking a few cautious paces to the side, like a predator circling its prey. Zuko matched her perfectly as the trees around them continued to burn. He hoped Aang was taking this chance to get as far away as he could. “The Phoenix King doesn’t believe the rumors, you know. I guess he doesn’t think you’re capable enough.”

 

It was a weak taunt, the sort of thing that would have enraged him years ago. But they weren’t children anymore. “I’m not letting you anywhere near him,” Zuko declared.

 

Azula grinned. “What if I challenge him to an Agni Kai?”

 

“You can’t fight an Agni Kai with a child,” Zuko shot back. The longer he could keep his sister’s focus on him, the better odds Aang would have of getting away. “If you want to challenge anyone, it should be me.”

 

“Hmm, been there, done that,” Azula said, relaxing her stance, which only made Zuko raise his guard. “I think we can skip the formalities!” Sure enough, she punctuated this last statement with a sucker punch that might have caught another opponent by surprise. But Zuko knew his sister too well, and easily countered the attack.

 

Azula was quick to follow it up with a spinning kick, pressing on her assault and keeping Zuko on the defensive. It had been a while since he had fought his sister, and while she seemed to have gotten more powerful, her fighting style was also less polished than he remembered, relying more on force than finesse. It reminded him of fighting Zhao.

 

As the fight wore on, Zuko saw no further sign of Aang in the burning woods, which he took as a good sign. Deciding it was time to change tactics, he fell back a few paces and switched to using the fire whips that were based on a basic waterbending form, which briefly put Azula on the defensive as she dodged his attacks. But with a great yell, she summoned massive walls of flame around her, effectively shielding herself, and then sent the blue fire hurtling at him. Zuko blocked, but was still driven back a few paces by the force of the onslaught.

 

He was surprised she had made not attempt to use lightning yet, but this time he wasn’t going to goad her into it.

 

Azula must have been thinking something similar, however. “Your waterbender isn’t here to save you now, Zuzu,” she taunted, following up her words with a chain of flaming punches. Zuko blocked the first volley, then deflected, and finally, with great concentration, redirected the final barrage of fireballs, the flames turning from blue to orange as he took control of them. That really caught Azula off guard - but not as much as the sudden buckling of the earth that sent flaming trees crashing down around them and threw them both off balance.

 

Toph had arrived.

 

“Hey, Sparky,” she greeted him as they fought side-by-side. “Why does it feel like everything’s on fire?”

 

“Because everything’s on fire,” Zuko replied, blocking another of his sister’s attacks.

 

“Well,” Toph grunted as she kicked two boulders in Azula’s direction. “The kid can care of that, right?”

 

A jet of blue flame forced them apart, and sure enough Zuko caught sight of Aang at the edge of the blazing section of the forest. The boy was using his airbending to snuff out some of the flames, but it was slower and more difficult work that Toph seemed to think.

 

“Why would you bring him back here?” Zuko shouted at Toph over the roar of the flames around them. But Toph either didn’t hear, or was too focused on fighting Azula to answer.

 

Overhead, dark clouds began to gather.

 

* * *

 

_Eastern Earth Kingdom - Eight Years Earlier_

 

Zuko was in a rather morose mood by the time the tavern keeper finally showed them to their rooms, and Katara had gone similarly taciturn. Maybe asking her about her home had been a bad idea. He wasn’t even sure why he’d done it, only the tavern keeper’s assumption that they were a couple had finally made sense of why no one in the town seemed all that suspicious of him. He had noticed when they’d arrived how people would take in his appearance with the usual wariness, but then they’d glance over at Katara, and then move on. She was so obviously Water Tribe, it was like her presence by his side was a sort of vouchsafe. If she trusted him, he couldn’t be anyone dangerous.

 

That realization, coupled with Katara’s mention of healing his shoulder, reminded him just how much he really owed her, and that nagging Uncle Iroh voice that still haunted him had urged him to try again to make friendly conversation. It was the least he could do, but just like last time, he seemed to have failed at even that.

 

Their accomodations on the second floor of the tavern were right next to each other. Zuko glanced around his room without much interest - it was a small room with a single window, sparsely furnished, but clean. It wasn’t like he had anything in the way of possessions to arrange, so the room was more than adequate. Once his shoulder was healed, he would have to take up trapping again as he worked his way south, and try to trade animal pelts for the things he would need. He couldn’t keep relying on Katara forever.

 

Right on cue, there was a knock on his door. “Come in,” he called, knowing who it would be.

 

Sure enough, it was Katara with her waterskin. “Let me see your shoulder,” she said, gesturing for him to sit on the wooden stool that was the room’s only furnishing apart from the straw mattress. Zuko obliged, and she gently removed his arm from the sling, opened his tunic, and unwound his bandages, a healer going about her work perfectly businesslike.

 

He let her work in silence, watching as she pressed handful after handful of glowing water to his wound, occasionally closing her eyes, or furrowing her brows in concentration, or adjusting the position of her hand. The pain in his shoulder gradually ebbed, and when she finally drew her hands away, only a smooth white scar remained to show that the wound had ever been there.

 

At Katara’s encouragement, Zuko rolled his shoulder, then flexed his arm experimentally. “How does it feel?” she asked.

 

“Great,” Zuko replied, somewhat in awe. It still felt a little sore, but no more than he would have been after a rough workout. It really was amazing, what she could do. “So, this means I’m not on death’s door anymore, right?”

 

“Looks like it,” Katara said wryly, winding up the cloth that had been used as the sling. “Now I just need to refill my waterskin. Get dressed and meet me in the market, okay?” She turned to leave, but Zuko suddenly thought of something.

 

“Everyone saw me with my arm in the sling,” he pointed out. “What do I tell people if they ask me how it got better so fast?”

 

Katara gave him a strange look. “The truth?” she suggested with a shrug. Then she opened the door from his room to the hallway. “See you in a bit,” she said offhandedly as she left.

 

“The truth,” Zuko repeated to the empty room. “Right.” Katara had no reason to hide her bending from anyone here. How convenient for her.

 

He wasn’t sure why she thought getting dressed would take him so long, when all he had was his shirt to put back on. Though they’d managed to wash the bloodstains out of it, the green garment he’d borrowed from one of the soldiers in the camp was still looking a little worse for the wear by now. New clothes were low on his list of priorities, though. A knife would be more important. Some kind of blanket or bedroll, cooking implements that were small and portable...ruefully, Zuko thought of the little homestead he had made for himself back in the valley. It would take a while to get himself that well set up again.

 

Maybe it was that thought that was depressing, but once he had belted his tunic again, Zuko found he didn’t much feel like going back out to face the world yet. Absently rubbing at his newly healed shoulder, he glanced at the door. It did have a latch, which meant he could be guaranteed some privacy while he was here. Deciding to take advantage of that while he could, he slid the latch firmly shut, then removed the candle from the lantern that hung on a hook by the door. Sitting cross-legged on the floor, he lit the candle with a touch of his finger to the wick. Uncle Iroh used to be able to do it without touching the candle at all, but Zuko had never mastered his breathing well enough for that.

 

Meditation didn’t really make him feel any better, though, and eventually Zuko came to the reluctant conclusion that he’d left Katara waiting long enough. He opened his eyes, blew out the candle, and left the room.

 

The tavern keeper nodded to him absently as he passed through on his way outside, though the pair of fishermen he was serving drinks to did give Zuko suspicious looks. He ignored them. Outside, other villagers reacted to him in much the same way, until he found Katara again, and her cheerful greeting to him immediately downgraded his threat status in everyone’s eyes.

 

“Oh there you are,” Katara said pleasantly. “I’m almost done.” She hefted a satchel of supplies over one shoulder and shoved another large parcel into his hands. “Here.”

 

“What is this?” Zuko asked, frowning at the object she had just passed to him. It looked like a bedroll, but the weight indicated there were other things bundled inside it.

 

“Camping supplies, obviously,” Katara replied, heading towards the next stall in the market. “We’re going to be following the coast south, right?” she asked, eying the variety of fishing gear being sold there.

 

“I thought you already had everything you needed,” Zuko said, not understanding.

 

“Yeah,” Katara agreed, inspecting some nets. “That’s for you.”

 

Zuko dropped the bundle at his feet. “What?” he exclaimed irritably. “Why would you waste your money on…”

 

“It’s not a waste, you need it,” Katara reasoned, infuriatingly calm. “But I don’t think we need these nets,” she added with an apologetic smile to the shopkeeper, setting them down and adjusting her grip on her satchel. She turned her attention back to Zuko, then glanced pointedly at the bundle he had dropped, clearly meaning he should pick it up again.

 

“What I need,” Zuko argued, “is for you to stop treating me like one of your charity cases.” He was in her debt enough as it was, if she kept piling it on like this…

 

Katara placed her free hand on her hip. “Why can’t you just accept it when someone tries to help you, Zuko?”

 

Zuko glanced around - people were staring at them, including the shopkeeper whose stall they were still in front of, but he couldn’t say whether that was because they recognized his name, or just because they were curious about the obvious disagreement the two strangers were having. “Nevermind,” he said through gritted teeth, crouching down to pick up the bundle of camping supplies. “We’ll talk about this later.” He didn’t want to find out what would happen if they kept drawing attention to themselves like this.

 

Thankfully, Katara was mollified, and headed back towards the tavern. Zuko trailed after her, wanting more than anything to get away from this village and all the prying eyes, but not feeling like he had any choice.

 

* * *

 

_South-Western Earth Kingdom - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet_

 

Katara had not seen any sign of Aang, but she could not miss the billowing smoke of the forest fire, and she knew that had to mean Azula had found someone. She turned Appa in that direction, urged him to fly quickly, then stood and stretched her arms out to either side, as much for balance as for bending. It was only a partly cloudy day, but there was water in the air all around her. It would condense and fall to the earth as rain eventually, all she had to do was speed it along. She closed her eyes in concentration.

 

Summoning a rainstorm out of thin air was an extreme measure, and Katara’s head was soon pounding from the effort. But she knew only extreme measures would defeat Azula, and she pressed on. Appa began to groan in protest as he was drenched by the sudden downpour, but the forest fire was held in check.

 

There was a low rumble that in confusion Katara first mistook for thunder - she could summon rain, but not _that_. But as she guided Appa down, the storm now going on its own momentum and requiring less of her attention, she realized it was the earth itself shaking. Hopefully, that meant Toph was nearby.

 

The moment Appa touched down, Katara leaped to the ground and ran in the direction of the now smouldering flames, where she could see flashes of orange and blue firebending ahead. So Zuko was here as well…

 

From the same direction, Aang came sprinting towards her. “Katara!” the boy shouted desperately. “Help us!”

 

“Get out of here, Aang!” Katara shouted back as she kept running. But he didn’t listen, following after her instead. She couldn’t spare another thought to yell at him again, all her effort concentrated on getting to Zuko.

 

He and Toph were both still fighting when Katara reached them, but Azula was impossible to land a hit on. Even the volley of ice daggers that Katara threw at her promptly melted in a wall of blue fire, and the Fire Lord showed no sign of backing down as her now three opponents closed in on her.

 

Then Aang caught up and stood beside Katara, and there was a sudden lull in the fighting, no less tense as Azula’s sharp eyes darted from one to another - first Aang, then Katara, then Toph, and finally Zuko. All four of them waited to see what she would do next.

 

“So the gang’s all here after all,” Azula said darkly.

 

“Azula,” Zuko replied. “You’re outnumbered. Please. Just stop.”

 

His plea seemed to make up his sister’s mind, but not the way he had hoped. Her arms moved in quick arcs, Katara screamed, and lightning shot towards Zuko.

 

But this time, Zuko was prepared. In a flawless waterbending stance, he caught the lightning with one hand, then with the other sent it hurtling back in the time it took to blink - a few feet to the side of his sister. He followed up with his own fire, at the same moment that Toph, Katara, and Aang launched attacks of their own. There was a blinding flash as all four elements collided - and then Azula was gone.

 

Katara ran to her husband, hands already gloved in water, and grabbed his arms. She felt for burns or other injuries, but was surprised to find nothing. Her hands came to rest on his chest, where she could feel his heartbeat, fast but steady. She looked up at him in amazement.

 

Zuko took hold of her hands and squeezed them tight. He gave her a reassuring smile, the rain dripping from his hair and running down his face. “It’s okay,” he said softly. “I did it the right way that time.”

 

“What was it you did, exactly?” Toph asked, breaking the spell of the moment. Katara turned away from Zuko, still holding on to one of his hands, to look at the others. Thankfully, they were unharmed as well.

 

“Did you and Azula just bend lightning?” Aang asked, sounding awed.

 

“Azula bends lightning,” Zuko clarified. “I just...redirected it.”

 

“How’d you learn to do that?” Aang continued his questioning.

 

Katara felt Zuko’s grip on her hand tighten. “That’s not important right now,” he said sternly. “You shouldn’t have run off like that.”

 

But rather than shrink the way he had when scolded in the past, Aang just sighed and glanced away, almost an eye roll. “Yeah, I know,” he admitted sullenly. “I was just trying to do something helpful, since you guys were standing around arguing.”

 

“Listen, kid,” Toph said, putting one hand on Aang’s shoulder. “I don’t blame you for wanting to take action, but you’ve got to be a team player.” She gave an apologetic nod vaguely in Katara’s direction. “And so do I. You guys were right about Azula.”

 

“I’m just glad no one was hurt,” Katara replied sincerely. “Now let’s get out of here before she comes back.” She led the way out of the now blackened clearing of the woods, which was at least no longer on fire thanks to the steady rain that continued to fall, back towards where she had left Appa.

 

“So no more fighting, right?” Aang said as they climbed back up onto the bison.

 

Toph sighed as she settled into a place at the front of the saddle, gripping the rim firmly once again. “You got it,” she agreed. “We’re all friends here. Right, Katara?”

 

Katara saw the use of her proper name for the peace offering that it was. “Sure thing, Badger Mole,” she replied with a teasing grin that she hoped Toph would be able to hear in her voice.

 

Toph threw her head back and laughed. Aang flicked the reins, bringing them up into the air. He and Toph soon struck up a conversation about earthbending, which Aang was still eager to start learning. At the back of the saddle, Katara finally worked her fingers free of Zuko’s grip, turning his hand over and examining it again. The skin remained unmarked, except for the old scar from the day of the comet, which was just visible on his palm, the rest of it still hidden under the gray arm brace.

 

“You really did it,” Katara said softly, so only Zuko could hear.

 

Zuko nodded, shifting his arm around her shoulders. “She made it easy for me this time, aiming directly at me,” he said in an equally low voice. “She’s more…” He paused, searching for the right word. Unhinged, deranged, and psychotic all came to Katara’s mind. “Off,” Zuko finally settled for. “More than I’ve ever seen her.”

 

Katara leaned into her husband’s side, settling her cheek against his shoulder. “When you redirected the lightning,” she observed, “you didn’t hit her.”

 

Zuko was quiet for a moment. The wind blowing past them carried back the sound of Aang laughing at something Toph had said. “I know I should have,” Zuko said at last. “She’s never going to stop chasing us.”

 

Katara didn’t contradict him. It was dangerous to show mercy to a foe like Azula, who would never give them the same consideration. But at the same time, she was his sister, and maybe one of the only people in the world who knew anything about his mother’s fate. Katara understood.

 

“Next time we run into her,” Katara said instead, knowing that there would inevitably be a next time. “We have to be better prepared.” Whatever had happened this time with the four elements would be had to reproduce, and Azula probably wouldn’t fall for it a second time anyway.

 

Zuko hummed in agreement, and they lapsed into silence. Eventually, Katara made her way to the front of the saddle to point out they needed to head further south, and then she took a turn at the reins. Hopefully, when they reached Whaletail Island, they would find Sokka there soon, and he would have a good plan for what they should do next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Friday, February 22nd


	26. The Rock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aang's first earthbending lessons don't go smoothly. In the past, Zuko is stubborn, but so is Katara.

**Book II: Earth**

 

**Chapter 8: The Rock**

 

_ Whaletail Island - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

Aang remembered Whaletail as an uninhabited island on the periphery of the southern Air Nomad territories, where they would occasionally stop to graze their sky bison on the way to and from the Southern Air Temple. But now, as they approached, he could see there were two settlements that hadn’t been there in his time, one in the cove on the eastern end of the island, the other at the westernmost tip. The roofs of the houses were green, Earth Kingdom style. It seemed the Fire Nation weren’t the only ones who had done some colonizing in the last hundred and ten years.

 

But, he supposed, it wasn’t like anyone else was using the land anymore.

 

At Zuko’s prompting, Aang guided Appa to land near the middle of the island, away from both towns. They touched down in a grassy hollow, and Toph immediately leaped to the ground. “Earth,” she sighed with evident relief. “Sweet, sweet earth.”

 

Aang dismounted with a graceful flip and some casual airbending, twirling his recovered staff in one hand. Zuko and Katara made their way to the ground more carefully. Once unburdened, Appa began to graze on the long grass. At least the sky bison remembered what this land was for.

 

“So, there’s no one chasing us at the moment, right?” Aang asked. They had zig-zagged their way to their destination, just in case, but had seen no sign of any pursuers since they had fought off Azula in the forest. 

 

“Nothing feels like danger to me,” Toph replied. 

 

Zuko nodded in agreement. “I don’t know why Azula was traveling alone, but she’ll need a ship if she wants to follow us off the continent.” He looked away, towards the north, where the ocean lay just over the horizon. “The smart thing for her to do now would be to head back to the colonies and regroup.”

 

Personally, Aang wondered if the woman who had nearly burnt down an entire forest trying to kill them could really be counted on to do the smart thing. But he figured Zuko would know best.

 

“It’ll probably take another day or so for Sokka to get here,” Katara pointed out, already rummaging through their supplies. “Toph, why don’t you start working on earthbending with Aang while Zuko and I set up camp?”

 

“Yes!” Aang cried, punching the air excitedly. “Finally!” He couldn’t wait to try bending a new element, and he had a feeling Toph would be a lot more fun as a teacher than Katara was. Not that he disliked his waterbending instruction, but Katara could be a bit fussy about doing things a certain way. He doubted Toph would be as conventional.

 

They headed a little ways away from Appa, towards an area where the grass was thinner. This seemed to be something of a rough track worn by travelers on foot or perhaps driving livestock. It ran roughly in the direction of the eastern town on the island, with a ridge sloping up on one side and the shoreline in the distance on the other.“Perfect,” Toph proclaimed, flexing her bare toes against the dirt.

 

“Isn’t someone more likely to see us here?” Aang asked. The last few months had taught him habits of secrecy.

 

“So what?” Toph replied with an unconcerned wave of her hand. “They catch us earthbending, this is the Earth Kingdom. It’s not a crime.”

 

Aang wanted to protest that this was, technically, the Air Nomad territories, but he saw her point, and didn’t bother to argue. He took up what he thought was a pretty good earthbending stance. “Okay, what’s first?” he asked. “Rock-a-lanche? Or rock shield? Or do I have to start with feeling the earth?” That had been how Katara had begun his waterbending training a few months earlier, with just feeling the element.

 

Toph stamped one foot, sending tremors through the ground that knocked Aang off his balance. He stumbled backwards, arms spinning wildly. “You felt that, right?” Toph asked sarcastically. “An earthbender needs to be grounded. If something breaks your stance, you’re at a huge disadvantage.”

 

“Like the ice?” Aang asked innocently, remembering the final showdown with the Bandit back in Penkou City.

 

“Like ice,” Toph agreed neutrally, apparently unbothered by the reminder of her own defeat. “Or like a better earthbender than you.” She stamped her foot again, but this time Aang was ready, and with a burst of airbending he leaped into the air until the mini earthquake had subsided.

 

Now Toph clearly was unhappy. “Hold on there, Twinkletoes,” she scolded. “Airbending your way out of the exercise won’t help you learn anything. Keep those feet on the ground.” She cocked her head to one side, considering. “While you’re at it, take those shoes off. I want you to really  _ feel _ the earth.”

 

“Yes, Sifu Toph,” Aang replied with an apologetic bow. She was right, of course, he realized as he tugged his boots off and tossed them aside. He was here to learn earthbending. He got back into the same stance as before, slightly adjusted. The dirt felt warm and dry under his bare feet. “Okay, I’m ready this time.”

 

Toph repeated the drill, and Aang, determined not to use any airbending at all, fell flat on his backside. “Well,” Toph said. “That was an improvement.”

 

Aang scowled up at her from his position on the ground, legs splayed out in front of him and arms propping him up from behind. Belatedly he realized she couldn’t see his facial expression, which only irritated him more. “Look, I get that the sarcasm is your thing,” he complained. “But you don’t have to make fun of me.”

 

“I’m not making fun of you, kid,” Toph replied in a gentler tone. “That time really was better, because at least you  _ tried _ to do it the right way.”

 

Aang got to his feet and dusted off his hands. “Yeah, but I failed,” he pointed out.

 

Toph shrugged. “So try again,” she said simply.

 

Aang still wasn’t convinced. “Maybe I need to start with something else,” he suggested. “Or try a different stance?”

 

Toph placed her hands on her hips. “No, you just need more practice,” she insisted. “There’s no secret trick to this, no sneaky way out of it. It’s just going to take some work. Now, show me your stance again.”

 

Reluctantly, Aang did as she asked. They repeated the exercise, over and over, until Aang was starting to feel like his whole body was black and blue from falling down. But Toph wouldn’t let him quit, no matter how much he complained, and eventually, he was able to stay on his feet.

 

“Good job, kid,” Toph offered by way of curt praise when he had kept his stance through five straight repetitions of the drill. “You’ve got your roots. Now let’s see if you can move a rock.” As she spoke, she thrust one fist upward with a sweeping gesture from the hip, and a large grey stone erupted out of the earth between them. “Like this,” she said, with a forward thrust of her fist, sliding her foot forward at the same time. The rock sailed through the air, landing with a thud several yards away. “Now you send it back.”

 

Aang ran eagerly after the rock, but took care to settle into the correct stance he had just mastered. He glanced over the rock - it looked a lot bigger now that he was thinking about trying to move it - then looked back to Toph. “Now?” he called out to her.

 

“Anytime you’re ready, Twinkletoes,” Toph called back.

 

Aang imitated Toph’s movements - fist out, foot following through. He tried to visualize the rock moving, willing it to happen. All he got was a blast of air, which ricocheted off the surface of the rock and knocked him over yet again. The rock itself went nowhere.

 

“Less airbending, more earthbending,” Toph scolded. “Try again.” With a groan, Aang got to his feet and obeyed.

 

The rock stubbornly refused to move for the rest of the morning. Unlike the first exercise, Aang didn’t feel like he was making any progress, either. All he had to show for his efforts were bruised knuckles from his fist hitting the stone. And no matter how many times Toph demonstrated the move again, or reminded him to be more “rock-like,” he still couldn’t get it. By the time Katara found them to tell them she had lunch ready, Aang was more than happy to call it quits.

 

“So how is earthbending going?” Katara asked as they walked back towards Appa, Toph trailing behind them.

 

“It’s not,” Aang said miserably. “I can’t do it.” Maybe all those years frozen in the ice had messed up his bending abilities, or maybe he was just the worst Avatar ever, but at the moment it felt like he would never be able to earthbend.

 

“It’s just your first lesson,” Katara reminded him, putting an arm around his shoulders. “I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it.”

 

“Yeah, sure,” Aang agreed. But he didn’t really believe it.

 

* * *

 

_ Eastern Earth Kingdom - Eight Years Earlier _

 

When they got back to the inn, Katara immediately headed up to her room to stow the supplies she had bought at the market. To her surprise, Zuko followed her, shutting the door behind them, and tossed the bedroll she had given him at her feet. With the canteen and other gear bundled inside of it, it hit the floor with a solid thud.

 

“I didn’t ask for that,” Zuko insisted.

 

Katara resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “But you  _ need _ it,” she said again. “And I had enough money to buy it, so what was I supposed to do, just let you keep sleeping on the ground every night?”

 

“Why does it even matter to you?” Zuko scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “I thought you’d be going back to the camp now anyway.”

 

He had her there. She knew that the refugee camp was where she was supposed to be. But if she was being honest, ever since she had left after her argument with the captain, it hadn’t felt that way anymore. The fever had passed, thanks to Zuko, and they still had Nivi. Katara’s old feelings of restlessness had returned.

 

“You still haven’t told me what your goal is,” Katara deflected. “I’m not just going to leave you to wander aimlessly by yourself.”

 

Zuko was far from satisfied with that answer. When he spoke again, it was through gritted teeth. “Why. Not.”

 

“I don’t know!” Katara exclaimed in frustration, throwing her hands in the air. She paced the narrow room and threw out all the answers that came to mind. “Because I don’t turn my back on people who need me? Because you shouldn’t have to be alone? Why do I need a reason to help you?”

 

But none of these, apparently, were the right thing to say either. If anything, Zuko looked even more angry at her. “Because you have plenty of reasons not to,” he replied hotly.

 

It was a strange thing to say, and Katara thought it sounded vaguely self-pitying. “You know, you’re hardly the only person who’s fallen on hard times,” she reminded him, one fist planted against her hip. He had to be aware, from his time in the camp if nothing else, that there was no shame in anyone needed help these days.

 

Zuko turned his back to her. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said dismissively.

 

“Please,” Katara scoffed, unimpressed. “You may love your whole ‘mysterious brooding firebender’ act, but your life can’t be  _ that _ complicated that  _ no one _ could possibly understand.” She certainly wasn’t about to admit just how much that very mystery surrounding him had intrigued her - he was probably just a deserter from the Fire Nation army. Nothing that special.

 

Zuko stood still for a moment, still facing away from her, shoulders tense. Katara silently dared him to explain himself, to tell her what was so terrible about his life, what curse the spirits had placed on him, that he was doomed to be a solitary outcast forever.

 

But he didn’t. Instead, he just muttered under his breath, “Forget it,” and reached for the door to leave her room.

 

“Maybe you should have been an earthbender!” Katara shouted after him as he escaped into the corridor. “Because you’re as stubborn as a rock!”

 

The door slammed shut behind him. Katara sat down on the bed in a frustrated huff, and realized he had left all the supplies she had bought for him in her room. The bundled bedroll lay innocently on the floor, mocking her for all her naïve attempts to help someone who didn’t want it.

 

Well, she’d let him cool off on his own for a while. But Katara wasn’t about to let this argument be the end of it. Eventually Zuko would have to realize how stupid it was for him to refuse her help.

 

When she went back downstairs to the tavern a little while later, Katara was unsurprised to learn from the tavern keeper that Zuko had not left his room yet. “Your friend there doesn’t seem like the most sociable fellow,” the old man observed as he served her another steaming plate of fish stew. It was a good thing Katara was used to eating a lot of fish back home.

 

“He’s not,” Katara agreed. She stirred the stew in her dish - it was still too hot to eat. She might not have as much control over heat as a firebender, but she could still try something. Carefully holding one hand over the dish, Katara felt the water in the broth, then wiggled her fingers.

 

An ice cube formed in the middle of the dish. Well, she thought, stirring the stew again so the ice melted into the rest of the hot liquid, that would have to do.

 

The tavern keeper eyed her cooled food curiously. “Waterbender, huh,” he said under his breath. “Handy, that.” He shook his head. “Anyway, not that it’s any of my business, but he must like you a lot.”

 

“Zuko?” Katara asked in surprise. “I think he tolerates me more than anything.” And barely even that, at the moment.

 

“Zuko? That’s his name?” the tavern keeper said, scratching his chin. “That’s strange…”

 

Belatedly, Katara remembered that Zuko’s name was distinctly Fire Nation. “He’s from the colonies,” she lied with a shrug. They should have discussed a fake name for him before they came into town.

 

To her surprise, the tavern keeper laughed. “Oh, I see,” he said, clapping his hands. “His family must’ve tried to make a point of how good and loyal they were. Serves them right they saddled him with the worst possible Fire Nation name, the poor bastard.”

 

Now Katara was just confused. “The worst possible name?” she asked. “How’s that?” Surely having any Fire Nation name was bad enough as far as people in the Earth Kingdom would be concerned.

 

“Did the stories not make it all the way to the Water Tribes?” the tavern keeper replied, sitting down across the table from her. “The Phoenix King had a son named Zuko.”

 

Katara shook her head. “I’ve never heard of him.”

 

The tavern keeper leaned back in his chair, hooking his thumbs into his belt. “Oh, I figure he and your friend were born around the same time,” he speculated. “And the poor boy’s parents thought it was a good idea to name their son after the Fire Nation’s new prince.”

 

“I guess that could be,” Katara agreed. It might be even more likely in the heart of the Fire Nation, where Zuko was actually from, than in the colonies.

 

“To bad for them, Prince Zuko wound up getting himself banished and declared a traitor,” the tavern keeper continued with a chuckle. “So now your friend is stuck with a name that’ll win him no favors anywhere.”

 

That would explain Zuko’s reluctance to share his name, Katara thought. Of course, if it was really so bad, he could just take a new name. But another question was nagging at her. “What ever happened to him?” she asked. “The prince, I mean.”

 

The tavern keeper shrugged. “I heard Ozai killed him on the day of the burning,” he said, all mirth gone from his voice. “Just goes to show what a cold son of a bitch the Phoenix King is.”

 

“Yeah,” Katara agreed. She couldn’t imagine what sort of terrible crime a Fire Nation prince would have to commit to be banished, but even so, a father killing his own son was horrible. She knew Ozai was a monster, but somehow that made him seem even worse.

 

“Well,” the tavern keeper said, slapping the palm of one hand against the tabletop. “Sorry for the less than cheerful conversation. I’ll let you eat in peace.” Katara nodded as the old man got up and went back into the kitchen.

 

Katara finished her stew, and still Zuko didn’t come down from his room. Maybe he wasn’t hungry, or maybe he really was just that stubborn. He had said he was used to going without food, but would he really starve himself just to avoid her?

 

Katara thought about the bedroll still sitting on the floor of her room and concluded he might.

 

She paused in front of his door as she headed back to her own room. She thought about knocking and trying to sort things out between them again, but her hand halted halfway through the motion. It was rather dark in the corridor now, and she could see the gentle glow of light under the door, steadily growing and shrinking. He must be meditating. She could leave him alone until morning.

 

But when morning came, and she did knock on his door, it turned out to be unlatched, and swung open. The room was empty, and there was no sign of Zuko downstairs, either. He had left, alone.

 

Fuming, Katara packed up her things, tying the extra bedroll to her pack. Rocks had nothing on him when it came to stubbornness, but she had every intention of finding him and letting him know just how ridiculous he was being. And if he tried to brush her off again, she would keep doing it, until he got it through his thick skull.

 

She wasn’t going to give up that easily.

 

* * *

 

_ Whaletail Island - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

After lunch, when there was no sign of Sokka, but no sign of anyone else to give them trouble, either, Toph insisted Aang should pick up right where he had left off. Seeing how the boy’s face fell at the idea, Katara suggested they do some waterbending practice first. Sure enough, their time down by the shore working on the octopus form lifted his spirits, though Toph claimed her turn again after less than an hour. This time, Katara decided to stick around and watch the earthbending lesson.

 

Apparently the exercise that was giving him so much trouble was just moving a rock. On his first try, Aang pulled his punch, and nothing happened. Toph scolded him for his half-hearted strike, and told him to try again. Katara couldn’t help but wince as she saw Aang dash his knuckles against the rock on the second try. He certainly hadn’t held back that time, but to no greater success.

 

“Let me see your hand,” Katara said, stepping in with healing water at the ready. Aang muttered an embarrassed word of thanks as she repaired the scraped and bruised skin.

 

“If you’re done coddling him?” Toph said pointedly.

 

Katara glared at the younger woman as Aang yanked his hand out of her grip. “It’s not coddling to treat his injuries,” she protested.

 

Toph made a dismissive gesture. “He won’t keel over from bloody knuckles. It’s just part of the learning process.”

 

“Maybe that’s how you learned,” Katara allowed. She could see how a young girl from an aristocratic background might have felt like she had something to prove when it came to being tough, and how that might shape her attitude towards things like this. “But I think Aang would benefit from a different approach.” She heard Aang whine her name in protest, but ignored him.

 

To her surprise, Toph didn’t argue. “Actually, that’s not a bad idea,” she said with a nod vaguely in Katara’s direction, then pointed at Aang. “If you can’t make the rock move, let’s see if you can stop it from moving.” Making it look effortless, Toph bended the rock to the top of the ridge herself, then leaped up after it, bending the earth beneath her feet as a springboard.

 

“Stop it?” Aang asked in alarm. “You mean you’re going to - hey!” He was cut off as the rock came rolling down the ridge towards him at far greater than natural speed, and he had to dodge out of its path.

 

“Toph,” Katara protested. “He wasn’t ready!”

 

“Well, next time he will be,” Toph replied, returning the rock to her side at the top of the ridge. “Come on, Aang! Show me that stance you mastered!” She set the rock rolling once again, and it hurtled towards Aang, who this time was in a solid stance with a look of determination on his face. But at the last minute, he faltered, and leaped out of the way again.

 

“Isn’t this exercise a little dangerous for a beginner?” Katara spoke up before Toph could scold Aang again. Aang gave her a pleading look, and she realized his two teachers arguing wasn’t going to do him much good. She had thought they were past this. “Why don’t you start him with some smaller stones,” she suggested, trying to be helpful instead.

 

Toph was silent for a moment. It was hard to tell, with her blank stare, if she was considering what Katara had said, or just ignoring her. “Aang,” she said at last. “You need to stretch your legs. Go for a run, and no airbending.” She pointed emphatically down the dirt track, and Aang reluctantly jogged away. Then Toph slid down the ridge as if she were surfing a wave, coming to face Katara. “If the kid can’t move a boulder when it’s coming at him, he can’t move a pebble,” she declared.

 

Katara was not convinced by this. “Doesn’t it usually work the other way around?” Anything she’d ever learned, she’d had to start small.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Toph replied, pressing one hand to her chest in an affected gesture of contrition. “I didn’t know you were the earthbending master around here.”

 

“Of course you know more about earthbending than I do,” Katara conceded, trying to be patient. “But I know how Aang learns. He might want to take on everything at once, but you have to rein him in until he’s ready.” Aang would have loved it if she had thrown ice daggers at him in their early lessons, but she had made sure he could handle the basics first.

 

“That’s funny,” Toph said. “It seems to me like he has the opposite problem. Aang doesn’t want to do anything that doesn’t come easy.” She pounded one fist against her palm emphasis. “He has to be forced to face a challenge, or he’ll never learn.”

 

“How true that is, for all of us,” a wistful masculine voice interrupted them. 

 

Katara spun around in surprise. “Sokka!” she exclaimed at the sight of her brother a little ways down the road, once again dressed more like a Water Tribe warrior than a monk, but looking no less eccentric for it. She ran to him and hugged him, grateful for the diversion from arguing with Toph, and he warmly returned the embrace.

 

But when the younger woman joined them, and Katara turned to make introductions, Toph was frowning in confusion. “Where did you come from?” she asked, pointing accusingly at Sokka.

 

“Oh, that way,” Sokka replied with a vague wave towards the western end of the island.

 

“I didn’t feel you coming,” Toph said. “Why didn’t I feel you coming?”

 

“An earth spirit with a sense of humor,” Sokka replied without missing a beat.

 

“A who with a what now?” Toph shot back. 

 

Katara rolled her eyes. “Yes, Sokka the Great and Powerful is on chummy terms with all kinds of spirits,” she said with mock reverence.

 

“Please tell me we’re not relying on his spirit chums to tell us how to defeat the Fire Lord,” Toph moaned in distress that sounded rather more genuine.

 

“Of course not,” Sokka said reassuringly. “I have no idea how to defeat Azula.” Toph’s hand met her forehead with a smack, and Katara gave her brother a withering look. He took no notice of either. “But I do know where we should go next,” he said in a far more cheerful tone, looping his arm around Katara’s. “Let’s find your Avatar and your husband and I’ll tell you all about it.”

 

“Brilliant strategist, huh?” Toph muttered as they headed after Aang.

 

“Just...give him time,” Katara murmured in reply.

 

* * *

 

_ Eastern Earth Kingdom - Eight Years Earlier _

 

Zuko didn’t take anything with him when he left. He didn’t have anything to leave behind either, and that bothered him - Katara had paid for the rooms at the inn, and their food, after all. Ideally, he would have paid her back, to properly settle their account. But he had no means of doing so, and if he didn’t leave, she was just going to keep trying to force him further into her debt.

 

This wasn’t pride, he told himself. This was pragmatism.

 

Leaving the town behind, he headed south by the earliest light of dawn. Fishermen were already setting out for the day, and if any of them paid him any notice, he didn’t care. He was never coming back here again, so it wouldn’t matter what they thought of him now. He was heading back towards Yaosai, and though he knew he would have to give the castle a wide berth lest he run into anyone who recognized him from his time there, the woods in that area were enough to give him cover, so he could put his plans into action.

 

Because he did have plans. First priority, forage. Second priority, hunt. Feed himself, and trade game for the other things he needed. And all the time, keep moving. Never settle in one place long enough for trouble to find him.

 

If these plans did not exactly rise to the level of the  _ goal  _ he had insisted to Katara that he had, he didn’t dwell on that.

 

Stubborn as a rock, she had called him. Maybe he was. He was never supposed to give up, right? Never forget, never yield, not without a fight. And this was his fight, not hers.

 

He made it a little more than a week, heading steadily south, passing through small towns only to barter when necessary. Hunting in the underbrush that was dried out from the drought wasn’t easy, but he managed to follow through on his plans enough to acquire a small knife, a thin blanket, a canteen, and, luxury of luxuries, a straw hat. In addition to keeping the sun off his face, this made his scar less obvious. He was still treated with cool suspicion in every town he stopped in, but people didn’t immediately stare.

 

About a week later, at dusk, he was setting snares in the woods just a few miles from Yaosai castle. It was closer than he would have liked, but with the scarcity of game he had to cast a wide net, so to speak. 

 

“Isn’t that poaching?” came a voice from behind him.

 

Caught off guard, Zuko whirled around, knife in hand. But his mind was already registering who the voice belonged to as he did so. Katara had found him, and she looked none to pleased. He returned her glare. “Did you come all this way after me to turn me in?” he asked. Technically, he might be poaching. He wasn’t sure who, if anyone, owned these woods.

 

“No,” Katara replied haughtily. “I came after you to give you this.” She set her pack down, untied the controversial bedroll from the top of it, and threw it at his feet, just like he had done to her during their last argument. “I bought it for you, which means it’s  _ yours,  _ and where I come from, it’s extremely rude to refuse a gift like that.”

 

Zuko stared at the girl. “A gift,” he repeated. Gifts were things you gave to people you were close to, or at least liked. “Why would you give me a gift?”

 

“Why won’t you accept it?” Katara shot back, avoiding the question. 

 

Zuko clenched his teeth in aggravation. Was she really going to make him say it, how humiliating it was to be totally reliant on the charity of a near stranger? “I don’t need it,” he ground out instead, hoping she would get the idea and back off.

 

Katara rolled her eyes. No such luck, then. “That’s ridiculous,” she insisted. “Of course you need it. It’s going to get colder eventually, and even a firebender has to have something between him and the ground at night when the frost comes.”

 

She was missing the point. “By the time the frost comes,” Zuko replied, “I’ll have everything I need. And I’ll have earned it on my own.”

 

Katara’s expression turned pensive. “On your own?” she echoed. Zuko gestured with his knife towards where his meager blanket lay rolled up, with his canteen sitting on top, where he had set them down nearby. “Oh,” Katara said, noticing his rudimentary gear for the first time. “How’d you get those?” She glanced back at him and eyed his knife with vague suspicion.

 

“I didn’t steal anything,” Zuko defended himself against the unspoken accusation. “I told you I know how to take care of myself. It’s all come by honestly.”

 

Katara looked pointedly at the snare he had been laying. “Honestly, huh?” 

 

Okay, so maybe not entirely honestly, if he really was poaching. But she must see now that he didn’t need her help anymore. “Will you just leave me alone?” Zuko replied, tired and frustrated. “It’ll be better for both of us.”

 

Katara gave him a strange look, then bent down and picked up the bedroll again. “I think I understand,” she said slowly. “You’re right, you can take care of yourself. But just because you’ve gotten used to being on your own doesn’t mean you have to give up.”

 

“Give up?” Zuko repeated, confused.

 

Katara shrugged. “Insisting you have to be alone forever sounds like giving up to me.” She held out the bedroll to him this time, rather than throwing it at him.

 

Zuko stared at her again. This girl had to be crazy. “Do you just want me to be in your debt forever?” he asked bluntly.

 

That did seem to take her by surprise. “Zuko,” she said. “Do you realize what you did back at the camp?”

 

“Of course,” Zuko replied. “I blew my cover, and forced you to leave…”

 

“No,” Katara cut him off. “I mean before that. All those children who were sick. You saved their lives, Zuko.” She looked down at the bedroll still gripped in her hands. “You saved them when I couldn’t, and it’s like you don’t even understand…” She trailed off, then looked back up at him, eyes flashing. “If we start counting debts, I think I’d be the one who owes you.”

 

Zuko agreed that he didn’t understand, but it was her actions more than his own that mystified him. Yet at the same time, there was something he recognized in that unguarded blue gaze. “You’re not going back to the refugee camp, are you?” he asked.

 

Katara shook her head, regaining some of her composure. “I really do have family near Gaoling,” she replied. “I think I will head that way.”

 

“So we’ll both be going south, then,” Zuko observed neutrally. He could see what she was getting at, and there would be advantages to having her along, as long as she realized that he wasn’t a child for her to take care of.

 

“Looks like it,” Katara agreed.

 

“Well,” Zuko said, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. “I don’t need a nursemaid or anything, but...it might be better to travel with a...companion.” He met her eyes, and saw that this time, she understood.

 

“Of course,” Katara replied evenly, still holding out the bedroll. “Equal partners.”

 

Zuko reached out and accepted it from her.

 

* * *

 

_ Whaletail Island - Ten Years After Sozin’s Comet _

 

Zuko was looking over their maps, debating whether they would have an easier time evading Azula by continuing further south into the Air Nomad territories or returning to the mainland Earth Kingdom, when the rest of the group returned, now with Sokka in their company.

 

His brother-in-law greeted him with a hand clasp, then turned his attention to Appa and Momo. The lemur especially seemed glad to see him, which Zuko suspected had a lot to do with the berries Sokka slipped him. When he was done petting the animals, they finally sat down in the soft grass to hear what his plan was.

 

“So, priority number one,” Sokka said, holding up one finger. “Obviously, we have to avoid Azula at all costs. If we’re spotted heading towards Omashu, she’ll attack the city. And Gaoling has already felt enough heat.”

 

“So wherever we go, we’re painting a big old target,” Toph summarized.

 

“Even more than we were before,” Aang muttered dejectedly, leaning back against Appa’s flank. The bison gave a soft groan as if in sympathy.

 

“Exactly,” Sokka agreed. “So I say we go somewhere that nobody in their right mind would have any reason to go: the desert.” He leaned forward and pointed to an area of the map where the cartographer had left the light brown color of the parchment as it was.

 

“The Si Wong desert?” Katara asked skeptically, looking at where her brother was pointing.

 

“That’s the one,” Sokka confirmed, tapping the map for emphasis and then leaning back, hands settling on his knees. Momo chose that moment to leap up from Aang’s lap and clamber onto Sokka’s shoulder, rather spoiling the air of gravitas he had affected.

 

“Well there are no cities or towns to worry about endangering there,” Zuko agreed, looking at the map again. “But there’s no water, no food, and no shelter for us, either.”

 

“Isn’t that where you said the library is?” Aang piped up, sitting up straight again.

 

“You got it!” Sokka said gleefully, tapping his own nose and then pointing at Aang. “Which brings me to priority number two: Avatar training.” He held up two fingers, then pointed them at Zuko. “Aang needs to learn how to control the Avatar state. You don’t know how to do that, I don’t know how, none of us know how.” He gestured at each of them in turn, then made a sweeping gesture around their little circle as he said the last part. “But someone must have known at some point, and if that knowledge is anywhere, it’s in Wan Shi Tong’s library.”

 

“Your brilliant plan,” Toph said, folding her arms over her chest, “is to run off into the desert chasing after some spirit mumbo-jumbo that may or may not be found at a legendary library that may or may not exist?”

 

“Oh, it exists,” Sokka said proudly. “I’ve been there.”

 

Toph sighed, letting her head fall. 

 

But Aang was far more enthusiastic about this plan. “Hey, maybe while I figure out the deal with the Avatar State, I can find something that will help me with earthbending, too!” he speculated hopefully. 

 

“Wait,” Sokka said, looking at Aang in alarm. “You’re having trouble earthbending?”

 

“Yeah, I haven’t figured it out yet,” Aang replied with a shrug. “But a powerful spirit of knowledge has to be able to help me, right?”

 

“I doubt Wan Shi Tong can tell you anything useful that Toph doesn’t already know,” Sokka muttered, half to himself. Toph looked up with a grin nonetheless, and Zuko got the impression Sokka had just gone up several notches in her estimation. “I don’t see why...how long have you been trying?”

 

“All day!” Aang whined.

 

“Yeah, one whole day,” Toph confirmed. “The kid’s just being dramatic, he’ll get it eventually.”

 

Sokka looked relieved. “Toph is right, Aang,” he said. “You’ve barely begun to learn. Give it time.”

 

Aang leaped to his feet. “How is time supposed to help me get better when I can’t even do anything at all!” he cried in frustration. Then, grabbing his glider, he flew away before any of the adults could stop him.

 

“That right there?” Toph said. “That is exactly his problem.”

 

Sokka nodded in agreement, but Zuko hardly paid them any attention, looking at Katara. “You go after him,” she said, waving her hand in the direction Aang had taken off. “I’ve already tried today.”

 

Zuko got to his feet and went after Aang. He didn’t think the boy would have gone far, and certainly he wouldn’t have left the island. But he had to admit Toph had a point. Aang running away was a troubling habit, for his own safety as much as anything else.

 

When the rough track heading towards the eastern town had turned into a more defined road, Zuko located the young Avatar perched in the boughs of a tall oak tree. He was leaning against the trunk, with one knee drawn up to his chest and the other leg hanging down, kicking lazily back and forth in the air. Gazing off into the distance, he didn’t seem to notice Zuko had found him. Even when Zuko called his name, the boy merely glanced down at him, but made no move.

 

Well, if Aang wasn’t going to come down, Zuko would have to go up. Cautiously, he tested the lower branches of the tree, found one that would hold his weight, and began climbing.

 

“When I was a child,” he called up to Aang as he pulled himself off the ground and onto the first branch, “and I started firebending lessons, do you know how long it took me to be able to produce a flame?”

 

Aang didn’t answer. Looking for his next handhold, Zuko saw him shrug.

 

“It took four months,” he went on, reaching for a higher branch and tugging on it experimentally. It seemed sturdy enough. “I spent weeks just meditating, controlling candle flames, learning to find my inner fire.” He pulled himself up again, but overbalanced and had to scramble to reclaim his footing on the first branch. “Sometimes it felt like I was going nowhere.”

 

“But you kept trying and eventually you got it,” Aang finished for him. “I get your point, but I’m not a little kid learning to bend for the first time. I’ve already mastered air and water. It shouldn’t be this hard.”

 

Zuko didn’t respond for a moment as he made another go for the higher branch. This time, he was successful. He resumed his story as he kept climbing “My sister started her lessons two years after I did. She could produce a flame on her very first try. Soon she was as good at firebending as I was.” He stopped and sighed, before pulling himself up to sit on a bough that was roughly level with Aang. “And then soon she was better. Everything came easy for her.” He leaned towards Aang, wanting to put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. But they were too far apart, and Zuko didn’t trust his balance to lean any closer. “I think you’re like her, in some ways,” he said softly.

 

Aang gave him a look that was less than pleased. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

 

“I said in  _ some _ ways,” Zuko replied. Admittedly, it was not a flattering comparison. “Not anything bad, you’re just...you’re used to things being easy, at least when it comes to bending. But you can’t just give up when something is hard for a change.”

 

Aang shifted away from the tree trunk so he was facing Zuko, both his legs dangling now. “Is that what your sister did?”

 

“I don’t know,” Zuko admitted. She certainly seemed as relentless as ever in her pursuit of them, but some of her choices were so inexplicable, like why she was working alone rather than using all the resources she had at her disposal. “We haven’t exactly had a heart-to-heart about it, but...when things didn’t go her way, I don’t think she knew how to deal with it.”

 

“And you think that’s my problem, too,” Aang said skeptically. “I can’t deal with things being hard.”

 

“I think you’ll never find out if you don’t keep trying,” Zuko replied.

 

Aang stared past him again. Then, in a very small voice, he asked, “What if I keep trying and I never get it?”

 

“That’s unlikely,” Zuko reassured the boy. “What’s more likely is it’s going to take a lot of time and hard work. It won’t be as immediately rewarding as waterbending was. But when you  _ do _ get it, it’s going to feel that much more satisfying to see that hard work pay off.”

 

Aang finally met his eyes. “Was that how it felt when you learned to firebend?”

 

“It was,” Zuko agreed, because he knew it was what Aang needed to hear. And it was partially the truth. It had been gratifying, the progress he had struggled to make as a child, even if at every turn his father and his sister had reminded him that he still wasn’t good enough. But right now they had to sort out Aang’s issues, not his own.

 

Aang nodded, his gaze falling and his lips pursed in consideration. After another quiet moment, Zuko suggested they rejoin the others, and Aang agreed. The boy leapt from the tree and airbended himself to the ground. Zuko descended more slowly.

 

It was a quiet walk back to the camp. Zuko let Aang think over what he had said, but just before they reached their destination, he reached out and gave the boy’s shoulder an encouraging squeeze, as he had wanted to do earlier.

 

Neither Katara nor Sokka commented on Aang’s running off when they got back, but Toph greeted them with a sarcastic “Nice of you to join us, Twinkletoes.”

 

Aang marched straight up to her. “I’m ready to try moving the rock again,” he declared.

 

Toph nodded in approval, drew him a little ways away from the camp, and set the stone before him. “Show that rock who’s boss,” she said encouragingly. Zuko hung back, Katara by his side, though they were both watching with interest, as was Sokka.

 

Aang took up his stance, glared at the rock for a moment, and then thrust out his fist. His knuckles connected with the stone, but he didn’t flinch. And the rock shuddered, rose a few inches from the ground, and fell down about a foot further away.

 

“Congratulations, Aang,” Zuko said. “You’re an earthbender.”

 

Aang stood up straight, letting his arms fall to his sides. “That wasn’t very much,” he said uncertainly. He looked down at his hands, then clenched them into fists and grinned up at Toph. “But I did it!”

 

“And with more practice,” Toph said pointedly, “you’ll do it even better.”

 

“At least nobody had to be in contrived mortal peril for you to unlock your earthbending powers,” Sokka said half to himself.

 

Zuko exchanged a confused look with Katara. “Who said anything about mortal peril?” Katara asked her brother.

 

“Hm?” Sokka replied, raising his eyebrows. “Oh, nevermind. On to the library?”

 

“In the morning,” Katara replied. “Appa could use some more rest.”

 

“Fair enough,” Sokka agreed. “I’ll make dinner tonight.”

 

Katara rolled her eyes. Sokka cooking would mean they would all be eating vegetarian. But Aang looked so happy with the idea, neither she nor Zuko said anything.


End file.
